


A

by cheshirecat101



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha Hannibal, Alpha Matthew, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Arranged Marriage, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Commital, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Forced Marriage, Forced Orgasm, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Obsessive Behavior, Omega Verse, Omega Will, Possessive Hannibal, Rape/Non-con Elements, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-02-28 05:30:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 72,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2720510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshirecat101/pseuds/cheshirecat101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At age twenty one, Omegas in arranged marriages are required to marry their betrothed. In Will's case, this is Hannibal Lecter, a psychiatrist who seems as interested in Will as a patient as Will as a husband. But things take a darker turn when Hannibal realizes that Will isn't like other Omegas; fundamentally different, in fact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A is for Arranged

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhh okay so I never thought I'd write an Omegaverse, but this just sort of happened. I was encouraged to write it by the lovely Extinction, plot bunnies invaded, then this started. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Friendly reminder that I do commissions, if you're interested please email me at the email address on my profile. Thanks!

Hannibal had never met an Omega like Will Graham before.

Of course, he had met some Omegas who shared aspects of Will’s personality. Omegas who rebelled against their feminine stereotypes, as Will did with his flannel and fly fishing and whiskey and scruff. Likewise, he had met people who were empathic, who could put themselves in other people’s shoes, though not quite like Will could. And of course, he’d seen Omegas who hated being forced into marriage, who fought against it every step of the way. He’d even seen Omegas who attempted suicide to avoid being mated, hoping rather to keep their independence. But he’d never met an Omega like Will before.

“Will, this is Dr. Lecter. Dr. Lecter, Will Graham.”

Jack Crawford, Will’s unofficial caretaker since his father’s death made the introductions, and Hannibal offered a friendly hand, expecting Will to put his own out so he could kiss it. Instead, Will crossed his arms against his chest, refusing to so much as even look at Hannibal. Of course, avoiding eye contact was usually a sign of submissiveness, a good thing in an Omega, but Hannibal had the feeling that that wasn’t why Will was averting his eyes. He seemed uncomfortable with eye contact, his gaze barely flicking to Hannibal’s maroon eyes for just a moment before flicking away again, to his tie, a special one worn just for the occasion. After all, it wasn’t every day that you finally got to meet your betrothed.

Hannibal had, actually, met him once before, but he doubted Will would remember the experience, or at least remember it fondly. Will had been fifteen, Hannibal twenty five, and the meeting hadn’t been with Will per say, but rather with his father. A conference, to discuss whether Hannibal would accept Will as a suitable mate and agree to a marriage contract to be completed when Will was twenty one. Eighteen had been deemed too young; it seemed that the logic was if you were old enough to drink, you were old enough to be married off, even if it was against your will. Which it often was, despite how far Omega rights had come in the last one hundred years. And as Hannibal would later learn, Will was one of the many that rebelled against the very idea of an arranged marriage.

At fifteen, though, he was oblivious to his future fate, playing with the family dog outside while in the small kitchen of the Graham household his father determined his fate with Hannibal without Will’s input. Hannibal had only briefly been introduced to Will when he entered the house, and found him to be a polite, if somewhat quiet child who avoided his eyes and left as soon as he was given permission to. A slight social anxiety, perhaps, or maybe a subconscious feeling that Hannibal was someone he would grow to dislike, if only because of their circumstances.

And those circumstances were determined at the small, round kitchen table, Hannibal discussing the terms of their contract with a rather tired looking man who was slowly wasting away but didn’t know it yet. Hannibal could smell the cancer on him, could nearly taste it in the air, but Mr. Graham seemed oblivious. Perhaps it was best not to reveal it to him, then. He would die only a few years later, when Will was seventeen. At that point, Will would be looked after by Jack Crawford, a family friend who also happened to work with the FBI, a field Will seemed to be interested in going into as soon as he was eighteen, despite the fact that it was an Alpha dominated profession and while Omegas were technically allowed to participate, they were often denied for superficial reasons because an Omegas didn’t belong in such a dangerous profession. They were precious, meant to be taken care of by an Alpha, even if that Alpha wasn’t of their choosing.

Though nowadays, arranged marriages were much rarer than they used to be, Omega rights activists having made sure of that. Still, there were people like Mr. Graham who needed more than their meager salaries could provide, and happened to be blessed with Omega children. Part of arranged marriages was the promise that the Alpha or Alpha’s family would pay a sort of reverse dowry; essentially buying the Omega from their parents. It was an archaic practice, one that Hannibal couldn’t say he enjoyed, but sometimes it was necessary to obtain a high quality Omega. And Will was the highest quality possible, though he didn’t seem it.

Because Hannibal hadn’t realized at first, hadn’t seen how interesting Will was in their first brief meeting together. It took the second meeting for him to realize just how fascinating he was, how special and different from all of the other Omegas out there. Hannibal had had incredible luck in finding him, and it was amazing to think that this was all random happenstance. That he could have completely looked over him, while looking through the files on the available Omegas that had expressed interest in a marriage with him. Considering his family’s wealth and good standing, it had been quite a few, but he’d immediately ruled out the female Omegas, which were the majority of the applications. Male Omegas were much rarer, more sought after, and he was only interested in one of them. He didn’t have anything against female Omegas, he simply wasn’t interested in them.

He remembered reading Will’s file and being struck by the picture of the boy, still young, with his wild nest of curls and pretty azure eyes. But he’d seen prettier, and it wasn’t the picture that had made him visit Will’s father and make an arrangement with him. It was the words that Will had written, the brief description of himself that his father had obviously forced him to write.

Will had begrudgingly turned in a paragraph that Hannibal read one, two, three times, a small smile finding its way onto his lips as he reread it. It was obvious that he’d been forced to write it, as it bore that particular brand of resentful sarcasm that only teenagers could come up when forced into something that they didn’t want to do. But underneath the sarcasm was a barely hidden intelligence and wit, clear to anyone who bothered looking for it. And Hannibal was looking deeply into everything he read, including Will’s reluctant little paragraph that managed to capture his attention because it said more about him than the rest of the file combined, told Hannibal everything he wanted to know.

Will, it seemed, was the closest to what Hannibal wanted, the most eligible of the candidates. His file stuck out in Hannibal’s mind, and despite the fact other candidates were smarter, prettier, better, in some ways, he kept returning to Will Graham, and eventually found himself on that summer day in the Graham’s kitchen discussing terms and a price with Will’s father. And now, upon meeting Will for a second time, this time when he was all grown up, he was glad to know that he’d made the right decision. Will could quite possibly be the most interesting person he’d ever met.

“Please, call me Hannibal,” he offered pleasantly, eyes on Will as he waited to see what he would do about the extended hand. Jack took it instead, shaking it firmly with a definitely forced smile.

“Hannibal, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person after our correspondence,” he said, and Hannibal nodded, pulling his hand back as it was released.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Crawford.”

“Jack, please.”

Hannibal caught the sight of Will quite clearly resisting the urge to roll his eyes, and a small smile touched his lips, just for the briefest of moments. He turned fully to Will, putting on a pleasant smile that was mostly genuine and definitely polite. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Graham. I don’t know if you remember—”

“Yes, I remember meeting you when I was fifteen,” Will said, very rudely cutting him off midsentence. This was off to quite a bad start. “My father didn’t introduce you as my betrothed, but then I suppose you hadn’t agreed on a price yet, had you?” There was a bitterness undercutting his voice, making it abundantly clear how he felt about the situation. He was even turned away from Hannibal, facing the wall and looking up at the painting on it rather than looking at Hannibal. Ah, a reluctant Omega. There was nothing unique about that, and for now Hannibal wasn’t seeing the appeal he’d once seen in Will.

“No, your father and I had not signed the contract, so I technically wasn’t your betrothed at the time,” Hannibal said, keeping his eyes on Will despite the fact that Will refused to look at him. Curious.

“Right.” Will turned to face him, eyes darting briefly to his before moving to the lapels of his suit. “And now you’re here to cash in on your investment.”

“Will…” Jack said in a warning tone, and Will didn’t even look at him, keeping his attention (sort of) focused on Hannibal, who was mildly amused by Will’s obvious reluctant attitude.

“If I may, I would like to address the elephant in the room,” Hannibal said, glancing over at Jack, who was doing a good job of hiding how anxious he was about the situation, though Hannibal could see the hints of it around the edges of his posture. His eyes returned to Will, desperately wanting to reach out and tip his head up to force him to make eye contact, if only as a show of power, but he couldn’t do that. For one thing, it was rude when they knew so little of each other, and for another thing, he wasn’t supposed to touch Will, not unless it was in a courting gesture. And Will hardly seemed open to those. “It is very clear to me that Mr. Graham is not interested in marrying me, and would, perhaps, like to break off the engagement.”

Finally, those blue eyes lifted to his for longer than a second, something hopeful in them that so went against the brash rudeness Will had been showing just seconds before. There was something appealing in that look, something lovely about the way Will looked when he was on the edge of hope, trying to keep himself from tipping over. Hannibal made a mental note to try recreating the look in the future.

“Unfortunately, I am not willing to break off the engagement.” And ah, the hope was gone, replaced by a breathtaking look of despair that Hannibal liked even better. Something to try in the future. “However, I am not in any hurry to have the wedding. Perhaps we could try becoming friends first, Will.”

Will snorted, and it wasn’t a pleasant sound. Rude, so rude. He’d have to be taught better manners. “What a bold move for you, Dr. Lecter,” he said, sarcasm heavy in his voice. “How brave of you, to break off from the archaic Alpha values and offer to become friends with me first.”

“Will,” Jack warned again, his voice sharp this time, but Will barely spared him a glance.

Instead, he turned his full attention on Hannibal, something Hannibal was very happy to have. It seemed that Will’s attention was hard to get and certainly hard to maintain, even with Hannibal’s naturally magnetic nature as an Alpha helping him to gain the attention of the room. It certainly worked with Jack, a Beta, but Will seemed to be immune to it, unlike the other Omegas Hannibal had met. Interesting.  
“You want to talk about the elephant in the room? Did my father ever tell you that my heats don’t work properly?” Will asked, and Hannibal tilted his head just slightly, inquisitively.

“No, I believe he failed to mention that. What do you mean by that?”

“His heats work just fine,” Jack quickly interceded with, Will having barely opened his mouth to speak. “Now, Will, Dr. Lecter is a psychiatrist.”

Will snorted, his attention having been successfully deflected, though Hannibal was dying to know what he’d meant about his heats. Will was getting more interesting by the second, despite his clear rudeness and cold attitude towards Hannibal. He would come around eventually to the idea of marriage, all Omegas did in the end, despite how reluctant they might be at first. It was hard for them to resist the lure of an Alpha, someone chosen to be the perfect mate for them, the chemistry usually messing with their internal hormones until they responded positively to their Alpha. As immune as Will currently seemed to Hannibal’s charms, he was sure that eventually he would fall for them.

“Great. So he can psychoanalyze me like all the others did. Maybe he can finally fix me,” Will said, and Hannibal had to admit that his interest was piqued.

“Why do you believe you need fixing, Will?” he asked, trying to keep the interest out of his voice, an attempt to maintain a polite distance between them, as this was only the first meeting between them and Will seemed more comfortable with distance.

“I don’t believe I do,” Will said, crossing his arms a little more firmly against his chest, a defensive posture. “Everyone else seems to though.”  
“And why is that?”

Will smiled, though there was no humor in it, but Hannibal hadn’t expected there to be. “Because I’m not a normal Omega. I don’t act the way I’m supposed to.”

Well, Hannibal already knew that. He could see it in the way Will carried himself, powerfully, standing tall, almost as if he was an Alpha instead. In fact, he might have been able to pass for one if not for the slightly feminine curve to his hips and his scent, that sweet, perfumed, almost warm scent that Hannibal could just barely catch a whiff of under the tang of the suppressants Will was no doubt dependent on to disguise himself from the world. It might have worked with normal Alphas, but Hannibal had an even more sensitive nose than most and scents didn’t lie. Not like people did.

“You can be taught,” Hannibal said, and Will actually lifted his eyes to Hannibal’s, if only for the briefest of moments, seeming surprised by the sheer blatancy of the statement. If Will was going to be rude then Hannibal was going to be direct. At some point, he was going to have to make it clear to Will that he was the Alpha in this situation, not Will, and as reluctant as Will was to marry him, to even listen to what he had to say, he was going to have to because Hannibal was the one that was in control here. Hannibal was always the one in control.

“I don’t believe I can be,” Will said, and Hannibal’s smile was full and sharp, a sword rather than a razor’s edge.

“We’ll see, I suppose.” He turned his attention to Jack, offering the clearly anxious man a friendly smile, showing him that he was clearly unaffected by Will’s attitude, though really, he found it rather intriguing. Will had said several things that proved that he was just as interesting as Hannibal had initially thought six years ago when he went through his file and selected him, perhaps even more so. And Hannibal wanted to know more. “Perhaps you could leave Will and I alone for a moment?”

Jack seemed displeased with the prospect, though thank god these weren’t olden times where courting had to be supervised at all times. Nowadays Alphas and Omegas could be left alone, provided the Omega wasn’t in heat while still unbonded to the Alpha, and they could court in private, alone, a much better solution. But Hannibal had no intention of trying to court Will right now, not at such an early stage when Will so clearly disliked him. He merely wanted to talk.

“Of course,” Jack said after a minute, though it quite obviously wasn’t an ‘of course’ to him. He’d needed to heavily deliberate first, which Hannibal understood. It was always a risk to leave your Omega charge in the care of their Alpha mate before they were actually mates, but Hannibal had no ulterior motives. He simply wanted to have a conversation with his soon to be, rather reluctant bride, and Jack, at the very least, seemed to understand that. Thankfully.

He took a slight bow, more an incline of his head than anything, and left, heading into Hannibal’s front hallway, off of the living room they were in. Hannibal turned his full attention to Will, who was determinedly not looking at him, instead gazing into the cheery fire in the fireplace in front of him. Neither of them spoke for a minute, the silence heavy, dragging onward on mangled legs, and surprisingly, Will was the first one to speak.

“Going to read me the Alpha act, act all big and bad and exert your dominance over me?” he asked, the same bitterness in his voice from before, though it almost sounded fragile, like he was liable to break at any second. Curious, really, something that Hannibal picked up on but didn’t pursue for the moment because he was busy weighing his own words.

“No, I don’t believe that would be productive,” he said, and took a careful step closer to Will. Will shifted slightly but didn’t run away, and he counted that as a small victory against the man who seemed as uneasy as a bird trapped in a house now that they were alone. Some of his bravado had worn off, but a lot of it was still there, and he still held himself tall, chin high, exerting a purposely masculine energy to go against the stereotypes of femininity of his gender. It was almost…cute, in a way. How in denial Will seemed to be about himself and his role in all of this. Others might have found it annoying, irksome, but Hannibal didn’t. He found it endearing.

“You won’t be swayed by a display of power from me, and it would only alienate you from me more. I am not interested in being a lord over you, Will. I’m interested in being equals,” he continued, his voice even, calm, not a hint of deception because he was telling the truth. He didn’t want a mate that was beneath him, completely submissive and catering to his every whim like Omegas were once upon a time typically supposed to do. He wanted an equal, someone who challenged him and made him better. And Will was certainly a challenge.

But Will scoffed at that, turning to look at Hannibal for a moment before his eyes darted down, to his pocket square. Burgundy today, to match his tie.  “So I’m supposed to believe that you’re unlike almost every single other Alpha out there? That you’re…” He searched for a word for a moment. “‘Progressive?’”

“If that’s what you wish to call it.” Hannibal took another step, bringing him right into Will’s personal space, but not close enough to be considered impolite. He reached out, tipping Will’s head up by his chin as he’d wanted to do since Will entered the room, finally forcing that gaze onto his for more than a few seconds. Those cerulean eyes were beautiful, when they weren’t darting about like frightened birds. _Pretty_. So pretty that Hannibal wanted to eat him right up.

He removed his hand from Will’s chin again, offering him a light smile, though there was power in it, his Alpha nature showing through. “I think you’ll find that I’m not as oppressive as you might see me. Our marriage will be that of equals, not slave and master. But,” he said, taking a step back, and Will’s eyes darted away again, his gaze so easily lost, “perhaps you need some time to get to know me first. I don’t have any qualms about postponing the wedding for the time being. I would rather be married later, to someone who is willing, than now, to someone who rebels against the very idea.”

Will was silent for a minute, then smiled, and Hannibal fancied he saw something genuine in it. “Careful, Dr. Lecter, you’ll give me a reason to respect you.”

Hannibal smiled at that, dipping his head slightly. “I hope to give you many more reasons in the future,” he said, and there was a minute of silence between them, neither of them disturbing the careful truce that seemed to be established for the moment. But Hannibal had to ask, his curiosity getting the better of him, perhaps making him a touch rude by asking the question. “What did you mean about your heats, earlier?”

Will smiled, and there was just a touch of mischievousness in it that Hannibal had to say he liked. “It wouldn’t be any fun if I gave it all away now, would it, doctor?” He turned his head, calling into the hallway, “You can come back in, Jack, I think you have a contract to discuss.”

Jack poked his head in from the hallway, waiting for a nod from Hannibal before coming back in, clearly completely under the Alpha’s spell already, though Will still seemed immune to it, somehow. Maybe it was just the suppressants; some Omegas were influenced so heavily by them that they were nearly immune to Alpha pheromones, having trouble even forming attractions to them and participating in usual scenting rituals as part of the courting process. Perhaps Will was one of those unlucky few, and once he went off the suppressants in time for his marriage to Hannibal it would fix itself, making the whole thing easier for him.

Until then, Hannibal could always ask Jack to have Will’s dose of suppressants lowered, as he had the feeling that Will was on the highest dose without needing to be, desperately trying to disguise his Omega nature in the Alpha dominated field he was trying to enter. And even though Will was legally an adult and had been for a few years, when it came to his reproductive needs and regulation, Jack still had the final say as his guardian, at least until he was married, at which point Hannibal would have control. But at that point, Will was expected to not need suppressants, not until after his first pregnancy, at least. Hannibal was rather looking forward to seeing what their children would look like.

But he was getting ahead of himself; they weren’t even married and Will still seemed to hate him, simply because he would have hated anyone in Hannibal’s position. Hannibal didn’t take it personally, knowing that Will was only angry because he hated the marriage he was being forced into, and not Hannibal himself. That was alright. He would come around eventually. Hannibal simply had to wait it out, and hope that Will was really as interesting as he seemed.


	2. A is for Asexual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal have some time to speak alone.

“Will. What a pleasant surprise,” Hannibal said. He’d opened the door to his office to find Will on the other side, looking surprisingly clean cut, dressed in a slightly dressier shirt than he usually wore, his hair neatly combed. “I was expecting a new client today. Did Jack make you an appointment?”

“He had Beverly do it. His idea, not mine,” Will said, irritation clear in his expression and the way he was holding himself. He definitely did not want to be here right now, would rather be nearly anywhere else in the world, and Hannibal didn’t feel hurt by that. Will was still in denial about the wedding that Hannibal had postponed for the time being, wanting Will to be more comfortable before they became legally bound together. Right now if they got married, Will would be a flight risk, a runaway bride. He needed the time to get used to Hannibal, to get accustomed to his presence, his scent, his everything. Once he was a bit calmer, they would be able to get married. Surely.

“I’m sure Jack thought it was best that we spend some time alone together. I have to say that I agree. Please, come in,” Hannibal said, taking a step aside to admit Will. Will hesitated for a moment, seeming to waver, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. But, after a minute, he crossed the threshold, stepping into Hannibal’s office.

Hannibal shut the door behind him, taking a moment to run his eyes over Will as his back was turned, enjoying the clean, simple lines of his body as Will took a look around the expansive office. They were both silent for a minute, Hannibal allowing the Omega to explore the office, get comfortable with his new surroundings, much like pet owners gave their pets time to get used to their new home. Only Will wasn’t quite a pet, not something to be praised and stroked and given treats for good behavior. Though he did have to be trained somehow, his manners were atrocious.

Will turned back to Hannibal after a minute, face mostly expressionless though there were still those hints of irritation, agitation at the edges of his posture. His coat was laid over his arm and Hannibal stepped forward, offering with a hand to take it. Will reluctantly handed it over, hand lingering on it for a moment like he knew that he was making a commitment to stay, at least for a little while. Though Hannibal suspected he didn’t have much of a choice; there was always the possibility that Jack had dropped Will off and was his only ride home, so he would be forced to stay for the full hour. Which was excellent, because Hannibal didn’t want Will running away when they finally had a chance to be alone together. Get used to each other.

“You have a nice office,” Will commented, a usual pleasantry. He didn’t seem to know what else to say, surely keeping his guard up to avoid discussing any deeper topics than that.

“Thank you. I certainly enjoy it as a work space. It’s very functional, but I find the architecture to be interesting enough.” If they were going to discuss his office then they would discuss it in depth. Hannibal could carry on a conversation about just about anything, and if it meant that he had to discuss his office and the weather and whatever other nonsense Will wanted to discuss, then he was ready for it. Will could bring up whatever he liked, Hannibal wouldn’t try to steer the conversation into deeper waters; after all, he wanted to make Will comfortable, and pushing him wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

Will was silent for a moment, eyes still roaming the balcony, looking anywhere but at Hannibal, before he looked down at the ground, chuckling. “Are we really discussing your office?” he asked, eyes moving to Hannibal’s for a brief second before darting away again, and Hannibal saw amusement there.

His own smile was slightly amused as he said, “Is there something that you would prefer to talk about? Jack is paying for this session, we can discuss whatever you wish.”

“I don’t want to ‘discuss’ anything. I don’t even want to be here,” Will said, that usual bitterness in his voice that Hannibal desperately wanted to eliminate. It certainly wasn’t helping him to get any closer to the other man. But Will was twenty one and willful and determined to rebel against this marriage no matter what he had to do, and Hannibal could only do his best to turn him around. Though he had a feeling that that was going to be more difficult than he had initially anticipated.

“I can understand your reluctance. I’m not offended that you don’t want to spend time with me, if I was in the same position as you I am sure I would feel the same,” Hannibal said, clasping his hands together in front of himself. “However, since you are here now, there’s no harm in us engaging in conversation. We don’t have to discuss anything in particular; I’d be happy to discuss the weather with you, if it means I get to spend time with you.”

Will snorted, an action that Hannibal didn’t appreciate, but understood. “Why, want to be alone with me so you can try and ‘woo’ me? I’m afraid I’m immune to your charms, Dr. Lecter.”

Yes, he certainly seemed to be, and that was a curiosity to Hannibal. Other Omegas and even Betas had been attracted to him in the past, some to the point of obsession. He had been told that his scent was unique to an Alpha, something slightly darker, more appealing, almost exotic. He’d certainly been hoping that that would aid him in his courtship of Will, but he hadn’t caught Will scenting him even once, while he’d already scented Will numerous times, finding him to be nearly intoxicating. His scent was heady, alluring, and Hannibal had to stop himself from sniffing every time Will got close to him.

“Yes, you certainly seem to be,” he said, walking over to his chair, stopping by it and turning to Will again. “Perhaps I am simply not trying hard enough. Please, take a seat.”

Will reluctantly wandered over to the other chair in the room as Hannibal took a seat, unbuttoning the two buttons holding his suit coat closed, as was the proper procedure when sitting down in a suit. Customs were important, after all. Will sat down, gingerly though, like he was ready to get up at a moment’s notice, ready to bolt. And it certainly seemed that way. The Omega was jumpy, nervous, flighty, and that was exactly what Hannibal didn’t want. If they were to be married, Will needed to be relaxed simply by Hannibal’s presence, by his scent. That was the proper relationship between an Alpha and their Omega. Will didn’t seem to responding to Hannibal the right way, though. Will didn’t seem to do anything the right way.

“Trying harder won’t endear you to me more,” Will said, gaze sliding to Hannibal’s tie. Olive green paisley, today. “In fact, the only thing that would make me like you more is if you didn’t try at all. Call the whole thing off. But that’s not going to happen.”

“I’m afraid not. If I call off the engagement now, it would be a breach of contract.”

“Right, you’d lose your investment, the dowry. I suppose that is more important than my free will.”

“I never said that, Will. I believe your free will is very important. As I explained before, I’m looking for an equal in marriage. These aren’t the days of old, when I would be a lord over you and you would have no freedom. Nowadays marriages are far more equitable,” Hannibal said, crossing one leg over the other. “I am sorry that you are being forced into this one. However, there is nothing to be done about it now but make the best of a bad situation.”

He paused for a moment, looking over at Will and desperately wishing that he would make eye contact with him, but that was an impossibility at the moment. Will would get more comfortable with him as time went on, repeated exposure to a stimulus over time meaning a decrease in reaction. His adverse feelings would go away and he’d grow to like Hannibal, if not love him. Hannibal only needed him to like him; love would come at some point, he was sure. Though it may come as a form of Stockholm Syndrome. At the moment, Hannibal was fine with that. His desire for Will, his curiosity about him, was starting to outweigh his ethics, and they’d barely just met. It was hard to be concerned about it, though, when he was so focused on Will. Rude, brash, rebellious Will, who seemed to need to be tamed. And Hannibal believed he could tame him.

“As I explained before,” he said after the pause, “perhaps we could be friends first.”

Will smiled at that, but there wasn’t any humor in it. Hannibal had to wonder what a genuine smile from him looked like, something he longed to see. “Friends. Friends who happen to be promised to each other and are eventually expected to raise children together. I’m afraid if you’re looking for children, you’re barking up the wrong tree, Dr. Lecter. I have no interest in bearing children for you or anyone else.”

Now that was interesting. “Do you not want to start a family someday?”

“My idea of family is a pack of dogs and maybe a significant other that I wasn’t forced into marriage with. I don’t want to carry children.”

“And why is that?” Hannibal said, his interest caught by the resolve in Will’s voice. Clearly he had thought about this before and was rather firmly set against the idea. But why? “You were built to carry children.”

“Does that mean I have to? Beta women are built to carry children, but they’re not required to. Just because I’m an Omega I’m expected to bear children when it’s something that I don’t want? Why am I required to just because of my gender? And why are my motives questioned every time I say I don’t want to? Why do I owe anyone an explanation aside from it’s my body and I can choose what to do with it?” Will was getting genuinely heated, anger showing through and causing a rather appealing flush on his cheeks. It was the first real emotion that Hannibal had seen from him, and it was rewarding to see something other than that awful bitterness that Will seemed to cover up his real emotions with, even if anger wasn’t the emotion that Hannibal would like to see.

Hannibal didn’t speak for a moment, letting Will calm down before he said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m merely curious as to your reasons. But you don’t have to explain them to me.”

Will didn’t answer for a minute, looking at the wall in clear irritation, his fingers twitching against the armrest of his chair. Hannibal kept his eyes on Will, patiently waiting for him to calm down, to go back to that flat state of bitterness that he usually seemed to be in. He’d miss the anger.

“I don’t want to bear children because I don’t want to have sex,” he said quietly after a minute, eyes briefly flashing to Hannibal’s before shifting away again.

Hannibal considered that for a moment, clasping his hands together in his lap. “Is there a specific reason?”

Will hesitated, taking a deep breath. “The very idea is…reprehensible. I told you, my heats don’t work properly.” He moved forward in his chair, sitting on the edge of it and resting his elbows on his knees, bringing his hands up to his chin. “Normal Omegas go into a frenzy, they need to be bonded, need to mate, their desire completely overwhelms them and turns them into a needy wreck. That doesn’t happen to me. I have no desire to mate. My body goes through the normal biological processes, it prepares itself as it usually would, but there’s no desire for me.”

His eyes skipped up Hannibal’s leg to his knee, to the buttons of his waistcoat, to his tie, and finally to his eyes, for just a moment before he broke the eye contact and looked away again. Hannibal resisted the urge to walk over to him and force his gaze on him, or even just call his name sharply and with enough power to bring his eyes to him. “I’ve been told that there’s something wrong with me. Jack certainly thinks there is, my father thought there was. Doctors can’t explain it, they think I went through some sort of trauma to make me that way. But I was born like this, and I don’t believe it’s something to be fixed. Even if it was, I don’t think it can be fixed.”

Hannibal considered it for a moment, this new and rather interesting information about Will. “An asexual Omega. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of such a thing,” he said, and he was sure there was a gleam in his eyes as he looked back at Will, his interest bleeding into his calm expression because wasn’t that just fascinating? Will was such an interesting, fascinating creature, far more important than Hannibal had initially understood but he had certainly been blessed in finding this one. He could have easily looked past Will, could have tossed his file into the rejection pile like so many others, but something had caught his attention and he was unbelievably glad that it had. Because Will was incredible, truly incredible, and so very rare. So precious.

Will seemed to think about it for a minute, brow dipped slightly in an adorable expression of confusion. “I don’t know what you mean by asexual.”

“Meaning you don’t experience sexual attraction. You have no desire to have sex with others based upon an attraction to them,” Hannibal explained, in the clearest terms he could. Which actually explained why Will seemed immune to his efforts to charm him, seemed immune to his Alpha scent. Most of the time scenting solidified sexual attraction, with romantic attraction coming later, but if Will didn’t experience sexual attraction at all, then he wouldn’t be swayed so easily. Hannibal had to aim for his heart, rather than his body, and that meant that his natural advantages were no longer advantages at all. In fact, his Alpha nature might turn Will off of liking him. “Does this absence of feeling occur only during your heats, or during your daily life?”

“During my daily life,” Will answered, brow still slightly furrowed. Adorable. “I’ve never felt an attraction to anyone that way.”

“Then perhaps asexual is a term that would suit you well. Of course, far be it from me to assign a label to your sexuality. If you want to assume a label for yourself, then that’s your decision.”

Will looked at him for a moment before he laughed, what actually sounded like a genuine laugh. A smile touched Hannibal’s lips, glad to see the happiness in the other man, though he was a touch confused about what had prompted it. “Oh, Dr. Lecter, you’re always so careful to be as respectful as you possibly can,” Will said after a moment, amusement in his voice. “Like polite manners can make up for the fact that you’re forcing me into a marriage I don’t want to be in.”

Ah, so that was it. Hannibal smiled down at his clasped hands for a moment before turning his eyes back to Will, finding his azure gaze waiting for him. That was a surprise, as was the small, genuine smile still lingering on Will’s lips. “I value manners above all else, Will. Aside from family, of course.”

Abruptly, the smile on Will’s lips and the light in his eyes died, his expression going back to a no doubt carefully calculated neutral. “So you’ll be expecting children, then.”

“I’m afraid so,” Hannibal said, something apologetic in his tone. “But there are other methods of having children.” Though, to be honest, he preferred the good old-fashioned method, and had to admit to having a sexual attraction towards Will. Already he was becoming addicted to Will’s scent; it caused something to spark in his brain every time he caught it, and he was disappointed, somewhat, to learn that Will seemed so repulsed when it came to sex. He wanted him, there was no denying that, and the Alpha in him growled for him to claim his Omega, but he couldn’t yet. And now he wasn’t sure if he ever could.

“I told you, I’m not interested in bearing children. The thought of a pregnancy…no thank you, I don’t want a parasite growing inside of me.”

“You see a child as a parasite?” Hannibal asked, slightly amused by the comparison.

“If it’s inside of me I do. It feeds off of you, is entirely dependent on you for those nine months as it steadily makes things worse for you.” Will leaned back in his chair again, abruptly, pulling his hands away from his face and resting them on the arms of the chair. “I don’t have a problem with children, I like children, I just don’t want to carry them. But,” he said, and his voice turned back to that bitterness again, “that’s what I’m made for, isn’t it?”

Hannibal had met Omegas before who rebelled against their gender, who hated what they were, who experienced dysmorphia. Will didn’t seem to experience that, but his hatred of his gender did seem to rival that of some of the people Hannibal had met with in the past. No wonder he did his best to present himself as masculine, as much like an Alpha he could be without actually managing to cross the gender line.

“How many people know?” Hannibal asked, curiosity coloring his tone. When Will gave him a questioning look, he clarified, “That you’re an Omega.”

Will sighed, looking to the ceiling for the moment. “Jack, of course. His team at the FBI. A few of my classmates have been smart enough to figure it out, or have good enough noses. One in particular was a rather aggressive Alpha with a good enough nose that I had to threaten to break if he told anyone or didn’t leave me alone.”

Hannibal smiled lightly at that, though it only lasted for a moment as he asked his next question. “But to the rest of the world, you try to present as an Alpha?”

“If I can,” Will said with a light shrug. “Or a Beta, if I have to. But I try not to reveal my true gender.”

“Do you believe you would earn less respect if you did?”

“I told you I didn’t want to be psychoanalyzed, Dr. Lecter, and yet, here we are.”

“Fair enough. Though you are here as a patient, technically,” Hannibal reminded, and Will gave him a smile.

“Jack’s idea, not mine.” He quite obviously checked the time from the clock on the wall, no doubt counting down the minutes until their ‘session’ was over. “Besides,” he said as he turned back around, “aren’t you trying to woo me?”

“My wooing doesn’t appear to be working. I think I perhaps need to change my tactics, considering the revelations about your sexuality,” Hannibal said, brushing down his pant leg.

Will snorted, an indelicate sound. For an indelicate man. “What, were you hoping you could win me over with your good looks alone? Not to say that you’re not attractive, doctor, but that wasn’t going to work.”

“I assure you, I wasn’t relying on that alone,” Hannibal said, some amusement in his tone. “I was rather hoping my personality would be enough to persuade you.”

“I’m sorry, but neither is going to make me feel better about being forced to marry you.”

“If you’re not going to change your mind, then perhaps we should set a date for the wedding now,” Hannibal said calmly, mostly just to test Will’s reaction when he was put under pressure, under threat.

The reaction was instantaneous. All traces of humor dropped away from his features, and he looked away from Hannibal, tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair. “If that’s what you want to do,” he said, but that distance was back in his voice, that careful coldness calculated to keep him safe from Hannibal. Keep himself from getting attached. Oh no, Hannibal didn’t want that. He wanted Will to get closer, not pull away, but he’d also wanted to test his reaction. See what Will was like when he was cornered. Though, really, he wouldn’t see that until the wedding day.

Hannibal didn’t speak for a moment, merely watching Will, noting the almost shy tilt of his head, the defensive posture he’d adopted now that the threat of the wedding seemed more real. “Or perhaps not,” he said after a minute, and stood, drawing Will’s attention. “I believe I’ve spoiled the mood of the conversation, and perhaps the session as well. Allow me to give you a ride home. I believe Jack dropped you off?”

“Yeah—yes he did,” Will said, standing as well, seeming slightly confused by the sudden action on Hannibal’s part.

“Then will you allow me the pleasure of escorting you home?”

Will seemed to hesitate for a moment, Hannibal holding his coat out to him, before accepting it with a nod. “Alright, you can give me a ride home,” he said.


	3. A is for Abstinent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's latest stunt prompts Hannibal to set a date for the wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for their response to this story, it's really been wonderful! I never expected such a positive response to it, and every kudos, bookmark, and subscription means the world to me. So many thanks to everyone! <3

“You know you have to marry him, right?” Jack asked in the close silence of the car, Will caught and unable to escape the conversation while Jack was driving. Driving him to another appointment with Hannibal, his third visit with him, actually.

“I don’t know, he seems quite content to postpone it indefinitely,” Will said, a false cheerfulness in his voice. Jack cast a glance over at him to find him looking down at his hands as he played with his own fingers, a sign of nerves, to be sure. Discomfort with the subject at hand.

“He’ll get tired of waiting. They always do. He wants to marry you, he wants to start a family, and he wants to do it soon. He and I talked about a spring wedding.”

Something in Will’s jaw tightened at that, the only sign of his distress. “I’m glad you two have become such pals, maybe you could become a bridesmaid for him. Or his best man, if you prefer not to wear a dress.”

Jack resisted the urge to sigh, looking back out the windshield as the car fell into a slightly uncomfortable silence, a fragile one where something could easily break if it was disturbed. No one had told him how much trouble Will Graham was going to be when he took him as his charge, he’d received no warning as to what he was in for. He’d only known he was receiving a surly teen whose father had died of cancer and who was in a marriage contract. When he’d first met Will, he’d immediately known that he was the Omega in the contract, the teen looking so unbelievably sweet and innocent, a feminine cast to his features, an even more feminine shape to his hips. He’d looked like a picture of beauty and grace, at least until he opened his mouth. That was when the trouble started.

“Dr. Lecter is a good man,” he tried again, ignoring Will’s soft snort. “He’ll make a good husband, if you give him the chance.”

“I don’t want to give him the chance, I don’t want to give anyone I haven’t chosen that chance, I don’t care how ‘good’ of a man he is,” Will said, heat in his voice. “And that remains to be seen, by the way. As polite as he may seem, there’s darkness in every Alpha I’ve ever met. They’re all made to be predators, Jack, how can I be expected to trust one of them? Especially considering I’m a—”

“Say that word to me one more time, Will,” Jack growled, and Will fell silent for a moment, looking out the window of the car.

“It’s Hannibal’s word, not mine,” he finally said, looking back down at his hands. “And it’s accurate and it feels good knowing that there’s nothing wrong with me.”

That was debatable. “I’m still upset that you told him your heats don’t work properly in some sort of attempt to sabotage your relationship.”

“We don’t have a relationship, and he wanted to know.” Will looked out the window again, irritated. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. He seemed even more interested in me, if that’s possible.”

“Well at least you didn’t turn him off,” Jack said, shifting in his seat, hands briefly tightening on the steering wheel. “This marriage is going to happen, Will, whether you like it or not. You can get on board, or I can drag you kicking and screaming down the aisle. Which is it gonna be?”

Will didn’t say a word, resting his head against the window and staring out at the scenery as it passed by, and Jack didn’t bother disturbing him. He expected this from Will, the sullenness and the silence and the rebellion. What he didn’t expect was for Will to go out and buy himself a chastity collar.

***

“Will, where are the keys?”

Will shrugged, sitting back on his bed. “I don’t know, I must have lost them somewhere around here,” he said, voice carefully nonchalant, casual. There was now a thick leather band around his neck, completely covering the skin of his throat and protecting it, ostensibly, from any Alpha’s bite. Usually they were put on Omegas by family members concerned about maintaining their chastity; in fact, Hannibal had never heard of an Omega putting one on themself. However, he’d never heard of an asexual Omega either, so perhaps this was just a trend of Will’s, to go against societal conventions. It certainly seemed that way.

Jack gave a frustrated growl, the closest to an Alpha Hannibal had ever seen him. Beverly straightened up from where she was bent over Will’s nightstand, sifting through the drawers. “Come on, Will, just tell us where they are so we can all go home,” she said, a sigh in her voice.

“I told you, I don’t know where they are. They could be anywhere,” he replied, and she rolled her eyes, going back to her sifting.

“Will, tell us where the damn keys are,” Jack said, voice nearly a solid growl.

“Why? I’m not married yet, a chastity collar is all about maintaining my virginity before marriage. So why does it need to come off now?”

Jack looked 3 seconds away from strangling him and Hannibal stepped in, saying, “I believe Jack, like all of us, is afraid that you’re never going to take it off.”

“A legitimate fear,” Will said, leaning back against the wall and crossing his ankles one over the other. “I don’t think I’ll ever want to take it off.”

“I swear to God, Will—” Jack started, but Hannibal put a hand out, gently commanding him to stop. He took a step closer to Will, who averted his eyes on instinct. Oh no, he wasn’t having any of that today. He took another step closer, reaching out to tip Will’s head up until he was forced to make eye contact with him, Hannibal’s dark, maroon eyes boring into Will’s blue ones.

“Will,” he said, his voice layered in command, the Alpha in him showing through in a voice that could usually bring Omegas to their knees, “where did you put the keys?”

It seemed that even Will, in his absence of sexual attraction, was not immune to the commands of an Alpha. _His_ Alpha. He fought, oh he fought against the urge to speak, clearly struggling to keep the words down that were threatening to overwhelm him and take over his tongue, but he lost in the end. They always did. “I threw them in a stream in the woods.”

“Jesus Christ,” Beverly said, throwing her hands up in the air, and Jack turned away from Will, clearly resisting the urge to hit something or someone.

Hannibal tsked softly, like an adult scolding a small child. “I’m afraid that was a mistake on your part, Will.”

“Why?” Will asked, eyes carefully guarded.

Hannibal didn’t answer. Instead, he straightened up, turning to Jack. “Jack, I think perhaps it’s time we set a date for the wedding.”

“No, you can’t do that to me,” Will said, panic in his voice, all bravado instantly gone. “What happened to postponing it?”

“It has become clear to me that no matter what I do, I’m not going to be able to change your mind. Perhaps marriage will,” Hannibal answered, and Will shook his head, eyes wide with fear. They looked so pretty like that, didn’t they? So beautiful, so panicked, so desirable. It made something inside of Hannibal growl to end this nonsense once and for all now, but he had to wait. They had to be married before he did anything so drastic.

“No, please, you promised me that you’d wait,” Will said, moving himself to the edge of the bed, feet on the floor. Hannibal leaned down to gently touch his cheek, delicately, a courting gesture that seemed out of place considering the panic in Will’s eyes. That beautiful panic, why hadn’t he done this before? Will was so much prettier when distressed.

“I’m afraid that I can’t wait any longer, Will,” Hannibal said, something like regret in his voice, an apology that he wasn’t quite making. “I was already eager to begin this with you, to start a family, but after this…I can’t see this as anything but an open act of hostility towards me, and I will not abide it. I tried to be your friend, but perhaps I have to be your enemy to make you understand that this behavior is unacceptable.”

And it was. He had tried the gentle approach, and Will had bucked him off at every turn. They could have been friends first, Will could have been eased into this, like slipping into a warm bath, but instead he was going to be thrown in while it was still scalding because this behavior was unacceptable and he had to realize that. It was directly disrespectful to Hannibal, a clear sign that Will still thought he had some power in their relationship when Hannibal had had it all from the beginning, had clearly been the one in control. While Hannibal appreciated Will’s…quirks, the things that made him different from other Omegas, they also made Hannibal’s task more difficult, harder to accomplish. When Will pulled stunts like this, Hannibal had to remind himself that this was all going to be worth it in the end. That eventually, Will was going to fold, going to change, going to be his. Will was his prize, and Hannibal was certainly earning him.

“You promised,” Will said, something almost dark and definitely fragile in his voice, a strange mixture that told Hannibal exactly how effective this tactic was. How terrified Will was of this marriage, as much as he tried to pretend it was all anger.

“I made that promise on the expectation that you would behave a certain way, and you failed to meet those expectations. I assumed that if I was friendly towards you, you would at the very least refrain from being hostile towards me. I can see that I was wrong.”

“I wasn’t hostile, I was angry. I made a mistake, please, Hannibal, you can’t do this.”

It was the first use of his first name and it sent something warm shooting through his chest, pleasure coursing through his veins and into his heart. God, why couldn’t Will have said that in any other context? In something other than this desperate begging, though he had to say that he was enjoying it. That he liked seeing Will stripped of that false bravado, brought nearly to his knees by the desperation that was driving him to plead with Hannibal right now. He liked having Will at his mercy, liked the feeling of power over him, the proper dynamic between them considering their genders.  It almost made him want to grant Will a pardon, just to see the relief that would flood those beautiful features, just to have Will in his debt somehow, something that would have to be repaid in time. But he wasn’t that merciful.

“I’m afraid I have no other choice, Will,” he said, gently stroking his thumb over Will’s cheek because he couldn’t resist. Will’s skin was surprisingly soft underneath his hand, aside from the stubble he perpetually wore, trying to add to his masculine image. Failing because with his now lowered dose of suppressants, Hannibal could even more clearly smell his scent, the sweet, warm, feminine scent of an Omega, with something unique to Will in it that made it a touch smoky, just around the edges. Something special. “We are going to be married, and I would prefer sooner rather than later. I believe once we are, you’ll begin to come around.”

Hannibal kept his eyes on Will, watching carefully for a reaction, wondering what would happen now that Will’s last hope had been extinguished, wondering if he would finally break down and just cry, fall apart so Hannibal could put him back together again. Instead, Will did the rudest thing Hannibal could think of; he spit in Hannibal’s face.

The entire room seemed to hold its breath, and there was an audible intake of air from Beverly. Hannibal didn’t move for a moment, simply staying in place with his eyes on Will, before he straightened up, pulling his handkerchief out of his pocket. He dabbed at the spit on his face as he said, “Jack, I believe we have some things to discuss. And perhaps we should call the owner of the store that sold him the collar, I believe he’ll be able to get it off of him again.”

“Hannibal, I’m so s—” Jack started, but Hannibal shook his head, cutting him off.  
“There’s no need for you to apologize for his actions. He’ll apologize when he’s ready, or not at all. I’m not offended,” Hannibal said, and truly, he wasn’t. He should have honestly expected that reaction from Will, or something similar. It wasn’t like Will to break down and give up; no, the Omega had more fight in him than that. So of course he’d done the rudest thing he could think of, and directly spit in Hannibal’s face. It would be a lie to say that it didn’t upset him, but that was more frustration with Will’s attitude than anything. He’d never expected this much difficulty in acquiring a mate; true, he’d considered the possibility that Will wouldn’t want to marry him, but he’d never thought it would be to this degree. The challenge was…interesting, to say the least. And Will was worth it.

“Will. Apologize.” Jack’s voice was harsh, demanding, but didn’t possess the same inherent command that an Alpha’s did, and therefore lacked the effect needed. Hannibal already knew he wasn’t going to get an apology, and to be honest, he didn’t want one. What Will had done was very rude but an apology now would be insincere, and so he didn’t want it. When Will was really ready to admit his mistake, he would get an apology.

“No,” Will answered, and his voice was cold enough to burn, but Hannibal could hear the fragility underneath, the barely sewn together seams of his heart steadily coming undone because he couldn’t keep stitching them up with hope and Hannibal’s promises to postpone anymore. He had to face reality, and that made him fragile, liable to break if simply pushed the wrong way. And Hannibal wanted to push him that way, wanted to see him fall apart, see what he looked like with tears in his eyes, but he wasn’t going to get that. Not today, at least, and that was alright. He could wait.

“Jack, I don’t need an apology. Please, we should go call the owner of the store, and then begin discussing details for the wedding.”

“I’ll call the owner of the store,” Beverly offered. “You two go right ahead.”

“Thanks, Bev,” Jack said, and stepped back, letting Hannibal go through the door first. “What did you want to discuss first?”  
As they left the room, Hannibal glanced back and caught sight of Beverly leaning in closer to Will to talk to him, though he was too far away to know what they were saying, as curious as he was. He saw Will look up at her, answering her, and tried to read his lips but failed, and turned his attention to Jack again.   
“I believe we should set a date before anything else,” he said, taking off his leather gloves. He hadn’t even been able to take off his coat, called over by Jack and immediately ushered upstairs to Will’s room when Will had come home with the collar on. They had apparently thought that he could help, perhaps using the bond that was supposed to be forming between them already. The bond that Hannibal had to say was far less developed than he would like, considering Will’s asexuality and the fact that he was determined to dislike Hannibal. But their sessions had been going well, it had seemed like they were getting closer, little by little. Centimeter by centimeter. But then Will had had to go and pull something like this. Hannibal could only thank God that Will wasn’t the type to try to kill himself to avoid marriage, otherwise he’d probably have succeeded by now. And losing Will was unthinkable.

They sat down at the kitchen table, Jack offering Hannibal something to drink, which he declined, though he did accept Jack’s offer to hang up his coat. That settled, they began the discussion of when would work best for the wedding date, Hannibal looking at his calendar on his phone to see when he was available. It was mostly his schedule they had to work around, after all.

“May is when I would like to have it,” he said, scrolling through the month to see what openings he had.

“We can do May. Bella and I don’t have anything major planned for that month, not yet at least, and Will is always free,” Jack said, taking a sip of the tea that he’d made for them both, though Hannibal had declined any.

“Hmm.” Hannibal scrolled for a minute. “How about the 12th?”

“The 12th of May? Sounds perfect to me.”

May 12th. Excellent, they had a date now, though it was obviously several months away. Even with that timeframe it was going to be difficult to get everything together in time, but he was sure that he and Jack could do it. Of course, out of politeness he would have asked Will for his input, but Will had forfeited that right by his actions today. All of the planning would be done without him, not that he would have wanted to participate anyway.

But this was so exciting, wasn’t it? To actually have a plan, a set point in time for him and Will to be married? For Will to legally be his. Oh, yes, he liked that idea quite a bit. He wanted Will to be his permanently, wanted to have a relationship with the Omega that went deeply beyond what they had now. He wanted to possess Will, own him completely, and this would allow him to. Will would come around eventually, he had to. Hannibal knew that he could get Will to at least like him, if not love him, given enough time alone with him. And their marriage would afford him that time and more, give him a chance to live in close quarters with Will and let them get to know each other better. Will just needed time, he was certain of it.

And once Will’s first heat hit…well. Hannibal was very serious about starting a family with Will, the Alpha in him growled for it, barked at him to claim Will and claim him now, fill him with his children in what was sure to be an amazing bonding experience. But he had to be patient, had to wait. He would have to cajole Will into bonding with him, a nearly impossible task considering Will’s views on sex and pregnancy. Somehow, though, he was sure he could persuade him. Though, really, Will didn’t have much of a say in the matter. Hannibal was determined to bond with him, get what he was due and finally get what he wanted from the Omega; for Will to be completely his.


	4. A is for Accord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal have an "intimate" dinner.

Supposedly it’d been Will’s idea, but Hannibal didn’t believe that for a second. A dinner, just between the two of them, in the intimate setting of Hannibal’s house. Jack dropped Will off with a bottle of wine and surely instructions to be nice, and Hannibal opened his door to find Will on the other side with his glasses on, looking rather adorable and rather out of place, shifting uneasily on the doorstep.

“Will. You’re right on time,” Hannibal said, secretly pleased that Will was perfectly punctual, and that he looked so clean and well-dressed. Like he’d actually put an effort into his appearance, though that could very well just be Jack’s influence. “Please, come in.”

He stepped aside to let Will in, and the Omega hesitantly stepped over the threshold, seeming to know that once he did so, there was no turning back and he was committed to staying for the evening. And that meant being alone with the man that he’d spit on not three days ago, an act he still hadn’t apologized for. But Hannibal hadn’t expected an apology, so that was alright. He would apologize in his own time.  
“I brought you this,” Will said, offering up the bottle of wine as Hannibal shut the door. “I didn’t pick it out, I believe Bella did, but I’ve been assured that it’s good.”

“A moscato,” Hannibal said, taking the bottle from him and examining the label. “This will go well with dessert, I believe. Bella does have excellent taste.”

“I’ll take your word for it. I know more about whiskey.”  
Of course he did, because whiskey was a manlier drink and it added to his masculine image if he drank it. Hannibal would have to expand Will’s palate, both in terms of food and of alcohol, a difficult task, to be sure, but everything with Will was difficult. He was challenging, but Hannibal could honestly say that he’d never been more interested in anyone in his life. Will Graham was a gift from the universe, and Hannibal fully intended to take him for all that he was worth.

“Let me take your coat,” he offered, and Will handed it over heavily, the thick wool having protected him from the icy fall wind outside. Hannibal went to put it in the closet as Will took a look around, though Hannibal had an eye on him the entire time. Not because he expected Will to bolt, or anything, though that was always a possibility, but because he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off the Omega, always drawn to him whenever he was in the room.

“Shall we?” he asked, smiling pleasantly at Will as he extended his arm, directing Will to the dining room.

“Sure,” Will said, heading in the proper direction, and Hannibal was only a step behind, leaning in a bit closer to get a sniff of Will’s rather heady scent. He placed a hand on Will’s lower back, gently steering him in the proper direction and meanwhile delighting in being in contact with him, even if it was just a small gesture like this. He really couldn’t wait until they were married and Will was free territory for him, when he could finally show the large amounts of affection he felt for the man with possessive little gestures meant to both display his affection and to warn off any other Alphas that were perhaps interested in his Omega. And there were going to be plenty, he was sure of that. Will was a very attractive man, and his scent was exquisite. When he was entirely off his suppressants in preparation for his first heat as a married man and subsequent pregnancy—because there would be a pregnancy, Hannibal was dead set on that—that scent would be even stronger, and he’d probably either have to stay in the house, or only go out with Hannibal. The latter option was more desirable because it was another thing to cement the bond between them, bring them closer together by putting them in close proximity with each other. And the bond, of course, was the most important thing.

Hannibal led Will to a seat at the dining room table, bringing their meal out a minute later and setting it down in front of him, a covered dish. “And what are we eating tonight, Dr. Lecter?” Will asked, and Hannibal felt a slight twinge at the fact that it wasn’t his first name, that Will wouldn’t use it now though he’d said it so desperately just the other day. Will would rather use forced formality, desperately trying to keep some sort of distance up between them even though wedding planning was already underway.

“I thought I’d surprise you. Perhaps you’ll be able to guess,” Hannibal said, taking his seat at the head of the table, the position of power. Will seemed to notice, eyeing him for a moment before taking off the cover of his dish and looking inside.

His brow furrowed in confusion, and his eyes went to Hannibal’s, if only for a second. “Did you make me mac and cheese?”

“Macaroni pasta with four kinds of cheeses and baked chicken and sun dried tomato,” Hannibal clarified, not wanting his dish to be simplified. “I heard it was your favorite.”

“It is my favorite,” Will said, still seeming surprised. “I just thought it would be beneath you to make. Jack’s told me about your culinary expertise.”

“Nothing is beneath me to make,” Hannibal said, though that wasn’t quite true. There were certain things he’d refuse to make, and this itself had been a struggle. So simple of a dish, and so common. But he was trying to win Will over, and the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, wasn’t it? Though that could also be because that was where the organs were. “I thought I would make something that you were comfortable with.” Expanding Will’s palate could come later; for now, this was alright.

Will frowned slightly, almost certainly seeing Hannibal’s motivations for the gesture, but it was gone a second later as he offered Hannibal a polite smile. “Thank you, it looks delicious.”

“Please, feel free to try it.”

Will picked up his fork, spearing some of the pasta on it and tentatively raising it to his mouth, blowing on it for a moment before putting it into his mouth. Hannibal could pinpoint the exact moment he really tasted it, Will nearly melting in his chair, and he knew his smile was just a touch smug, but it couldn’t be helped. He was going to use every one of his skills to win Will over, and this was certainly one of them. Perhaps the simplicity of the dish would make him more approachable, more likeable to Will. One could only hope.

“This is great,” Will said as he continued to eat, and Hannibal picked up his own fork with a small, pleased smile.

“I’m very glad you like it. I can’t say I slaved over it, but I did put quite a bit of work in.”

“I’m sure you did, it shows.”

Pleased. Yes, he was very pleased, glad that Will was enjoying the meal he’d prepared for him. There was a pleasant air between them, a gentle peace that Hannibal was as careful as possible not to disturb. He couldn’t remember Will being this subdued with him before, this easygoing and well-behaved. Probably because he’d never been like this before, and Hannibal had to say he liked the change as much as he disliked it. Will was acting like a true Omega for the first time, and Hannibal liked the submissiveness from him, the weakness that was out of place on Will but made him salivate like any Alpha would. At the same time, he missed the old Will, the fight that he put up that was always so fascinating to see, the true anger that would show its beautiful face from time to time. He liked to see those real emotions from Will, even if the only ones he’d seen were anger and despair. Not this…this fake front he was putting up, with practiced, pleasant smiles and flat, dead eyes that didn’t show any spark of genuine emotion. He preferred the version of Will that spat on him, honestly.

“You don’t have to be polite with me, Will,” he said after a minute of silence, turning to Will as he picked up his glass of wine. “I know perfectly well that you hate me.”

Will nearly choked on his meal, and Hannibal calmly waited for him to be able to speak, taking a sip of his wine. “I don’t hate you, Dr. Lecter,” Will said after a minute, eyes on Hannibal’s tie before they slid to his pocket square. “I may dislike you because of our circumstances, but I don’t hate you.”

But at least he was admitting that he didn’t like Hannibal. Hannibal had already known that, of course, but it was good to hear Will actually admit it. It was important to gauge where his feelings were towards Hannibal, see if he was making any progress whatsoever. It didn’t seem that way, but Will wasn’t exactly the type to come right out and say that Hannibal was steadily winning him over, and Hannibal liked to think that he had made some progress. At the very least, Will didn’t hate him.

“I actually…” Will paused, and Hannibal looked at him with keen interest, waiting for him to find the words he seemed to be having trouble looking for. Will took a deep breath, making purposeful eye contact with Hannibal for a moment. “I wanted to apologize for my actions the last time I saw you. I was angry, and I lashed out, and I’m sorry for that.”

Now that was surprising. Hannibal hadn’t expected Will to apologize, at least so soon, and it was a curious thing that he did. Overall, Will was behaving so differently, like he had actually made peace with what was going to happen and was alright with it. That would be delightful; if it was the truth. But Hannibal knew better than that. This was all an act, something Will was using to get what he wanted, whatever that was.

Hannibal didn’t speak for a minute, keeping his eyes on Will, and Will looked away, clearly uncomfortable with the strong gaze. “What is it that you want from me, Will?” he finally asked, and Will looked back towards him, slightly startled.

“What makes you think I want something from you?” he asked, brow furrowing over those pretty blue eyes.

“Your behavior towards me is remarkably changed. Far more than is natural. It has led me to the conclusion that you want something from me. So.” He laid his fork down, clasping his hands together. “What is it that you want?”

Will didn’t answer for a minute, paused with his fork in midair and a surprised look on his face. After a moment he put his fork back down in his dish, smoothing his napkin in his lap before turning back to Hannibal. “I want you to postpone the wedding.”

“You know I can’t do that, Will.”

“You can, but you refuse to,” Will countered, and Hannibal shook his head, unclasping his hands and looking down at his lap as he smoothed his napkin with his hands.

“I’m afraid it’s out of my hands,” he said, looking back up at Will, an apology layered in his voice that he didn’t really mean. Not when he was so close to getting what he wanted from Will. “Reservations have already been made, the planning is underway. It’s too late to postpone.”

Will looked down at his plate, and for a moment, it looked like he was holding back tears. Something hungry appeared in Hannibal’s chest, growling pleasantly at the thought of Will crying in front of him, of being that vulnerable. He reached out, placing a hand atop Will’s hand nearest to him, and it was absurdly rewarding when Will didn’t immediately pull away.

“I’m very sorry, Will, but I can’t postpone any longer. It was already trying my patience to put it off that long.”

Will didn’t say anything, staring down at his plate with vacant eyes that said he was clearly elsewhere, though where Hannibal didn’t know. Contemplating his fate, perhaps, or planning Hannibal’s murder. Either was equally likely, and he half expected Will’s hand to tighten on his knife as he tried to plunge it into Hannibal’s chest. That would be exciting. A little fight during dinner, one that he was sure to win. Then, oh then, he could have Will pinned to the ground beneath him, completely at his mercy. The thought was so enticing that Hannibal himself was lost for a minute, drifting in a pleasant sea of imagination, but he came back to himself as Will turned to him, cerulean eyes inscrutable.

Abruptly, that look changed distinctly, something alluring, enticing coming into Will’s eyes. “There’s nothing I can do to change your mind?” he asked, and his voice had dropped several registers, into something darker, almost sultry.

Hannibal looked at him in surprise, closer to shock at the fact that Will was trying this tactic with him, considering his aversion to sex. Unless he’d exaggerated it to put Hannibal off. No. After a moment of examination, it was clear that Will’s hand was trembling under his, just lightly. Will was still terrified of sex, this was just what he looked like when he was desperate, when he no longer had anything left to offer to change Hannibal’s mind except himself. Will was repulsed and terrified by what he was offering, but he was offering it all the same because he was beyond desperate at this point. Interesting, that he’d made it clear that he wouldn’t have sex with Hannibal after marriage, and yet he was proffering it now.

“Seduction isn’t your strong suit, Will,” he said, pulling his hand back and picking up his fork, continuing to eat. And truly, it wasn’t. Will looked like he was playing dress-up, trying on lust instead of really feeling it. It was obvious that he didn’t want Hannibal at all, this was all just a front, and while it was a front that amused Hannibal, he preferred when Will was honest with him. Honesty was the foundation of a good relationship, after all. “And you’re not going to be able to seduce me. I’m more than happy to wait until marriage.”

“You won’t be getting anything from me after marriage,” Will said, the front instantly dropped at the mere mention from Hannibal.

“So you’re saying I should take advantage now?” Hannibal placed his fork and napkin down on the table, turning his whole chair to face Will, who was watching him warily, like an animal that knew it was cornered. He seemed to be regretting his offer, and that was good. Hannibal wanted to teach him a policy of honesty when it came to his soon-to-be spouse. “Then perhaps you’ll permit me a kiss. Traditionally the first kiss is saved for the wedding, but in more recent years it’s become part of the courting process, so perhaps we can indulge in one now. What do you say?”

Will was watching him carefully, clearly knowing that he had a motive that went beyond wanting a simple kiss from him. Hannibal always had a larger motive behind his actions, and Will was smart enough to see that, unlike most of the people Hannibal associated with. Will wasn’t fooled by the usual Alpha smoke and mirrors, knowing better than that. He didn’t seem to trust Hannibal, sensing something was off with him, something different from typical Alphas, and Hannibal knew that when they were married, it was going to be even harder to hide that side of himself from Will. He could only hope that eventually Will would willingly become involved.

But that was a discussion for another day. For now he faced off with Will, the Omega clearly trying to determine what Hannibal’s motivation was while Hannibal simply smiled pleasantly at him, waiting for him to come to a decision. It was like playing a game of chicken, only the thing at stake was a kiss, and not someone’s pride. Though, perhaps that was at stake too, though Hannibal wouldn’t feel hurt if Will rejected him. It was what he expected, honestly, because Will was still hostile towards him and why _shouldn’t_ he reject Hannibal? Hannibal certainly hadn’t done him any favors. He was currently in the middle of arranging a wedding that Will didn’t want to be in, that he rebelled against with every fiber of his being, so why shouldn’t Will reject him?

“Yes,” Will said, and Hannibal didn’t quite stare at him, more than surprised by the sudden concession. He didn’t speak for a minute, too startled, and Will said, shifting in his seat, “You can kiss me.”

Well. He hadn’t thought that he’d actually go through with it. That possibility had been the furthest thing from his mind, and not for the first time, he was pleasantly surprised by Will. But the man’s motivations for agreeing were hard to read, at best, and that instantly made him wary, wondering what Will was planning, what he got out of this exchange. Because Hannibal, well, Hannibal got plenty out of this exchange. He got a chance to be closer with him, more intimate, and meanwhile try to strengthen the bond forming between them. Will? What did Will get out of this?

“Alright,” Hannibal said, though his mind was still turning over the possibilities of why on earth Will would accept this. He pulled his chair closer to Will’s, reaching out to gently lay a hand on Will’s cheek, stroking his thumb over the combination of smooth skin and stubble he found there. “If this is what you want.” It was an opportunity for Will to back out, to take back whatever ill-advised plans he had and leave their relationship where it currently was. At a truce. Uneasy, but still a truce.

Will took a deep breath, steeling himself in a way that shouldn’t usually precede a kiss, and nodded. Hannibal paused for a moment, unsure, and then leaned in to kiss him. Will’s lips were softer than he’d expected, though slightly chapped from the cold weather outside, and completely unresponsive underneath Hannibal’s. Hannibal pushed gently into the kiss, encouraging Will to kiss back as lightly as he could, and after a minute, Will began to do just that, though it was awkward at first, a little too forceful, speaking of his inexperience. There, this was nice, wasn’t it? Just a simple kiss between the two of them, just an opportunity for them to get closer—

Hannibal grabbed ahold of Will’s wrist at the last second, stopping the knife from entering his very vulnerable stomach. He pulled out of the kiss, looking at Will quite calmly as he twisted his wrist, making him let go of the knife with a cry of pain. “That was very rude of you, Will,” he said with a tsk, picking the knife up and setting it by his own plate.

“If you’re not going to let me out of our marriage then one of us is going to have to die,” Will said coldly. “And while I’m not a murderer, I’d rather it be you.”

Oh, and they had been making so much good progress. Of course, he should have known that it was all an illusion, built by Will to try and lull him into a false sense of security, and it had almost worked. Good thing that his reflexes were still what they once were, or he’d have a butter knife in the gut and a betrothed in jail for attempted murder. Or actual murder, if Will had managed to get his hands on a better weapon, such as a knife from the kitchen.

Hannibal sighed lightly, continuing to stroke Will’s cheek with his thumb though Will looked like he was liable to bite him at any second. “You can try and kill me all you’d like, this marriage will happen. I’d prefer it not be while you’re in a cell, though,” Hannibal said, and removed his hand from Will’s cheek, standing. “I think it’s time for dessert, don’t you?”


	5. A is for Altar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding.

Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter were married on May 12th, 2015. It was a traditional wedding, where Will and Hannibal weren’t allowed to see each other until the service and Will was bathed in rosewater by his bridesmaids, dried off and dressed in a tuxedo that fit him like a glove, several fittings ensuring that it was perfect for him. He was washed, dried, hair combed and blown dry, curls arranged into a neat array, the calmest he’d even seen them. He was shaved the old-fashioned way, with a straight razor, several years coming off with the hair and making him look much younger than he was.

“I look like a child bride,” he commented to Beverly, who snorted as she handed him his bouquet. “As the maid of honor, aren’t you supposed to prevent things like this?”

“I’m only here to make sure you don’t try to run away,” she said, and patted her leg underneath her dress. “That’s what this is for.”

“You brought a gun?” Will asked, incredulous, and she winked at him. “So you’re going to shoot me if I try to run.”

She shrugged. “It wouldn’t be a fatal shot. I think you’d be smart enough to stop before I had to.”

“Maybe I’d rather get shot,” he said, straightening his tuxedo in the mirror with a slight sigh. He straightened his waistcoat and tie, both a pale cream yellow to match the stephanotis, yellow rose, and baby’s breath of his boutonniere. Hannibal would be wearing a matching one, he knew that, and the very thought of the other man made him slightly sick.

“It’s not going to be that bad, you know,” Beverly said, taking a seat on the couch in the room and absentmindedly flipping through the guest book that’d been left there, some poor wedding planner no doubt scrambling about and looking for it. “Jimmy didn’t initially want to marry Brian and look at how happy they are.”  
“Don’t extoll the virtues of arranged marriage to me, Bev, Jimmy and Brian are a special case,” he said, fiddling with his boutonniere now. The ceremony was approaching and he needed something, anything to do with his hands, too afraid to stop moving, too nervous about what was coming next. He wasn’t ready. He was never going to be ready for this, but as Hannibal had continued to so eloquently point out, he didn’t have much of a choice. They had continued to meet over the course of the past several months, both for private dinners and for their “sessions”, and Hannibal had steadily tried to work his way closer to Will, Will rejecting him at every turn. He hadn’t tried to kill him, again, though the temptation had certainly been there. He’d nearly hit him a few times simply because of the smugness that occasionally settled over Hannibal’ features at the mention of the wedding, but he’d managed to restrain himself, mostly playing nice. Mostly. He’d still made his blatant dislike for Hannibal obvious, as well as his rather forceful reluctance to marry him, but at least he hadn’t tried to kill him, much to Hannibal’s relief, he was sure.

“Neither of them are anything like Hannibal Lecter.”

“And what’s wrong with Hannibal?” she asked, looking up from the guest book as he turned around, dropping his hands away from his suit in frustration.

Will frowned slightly, coming to take a seat next to her. He rested his elbows on his knees, one leg jiggling up and down nervously, though thankfully Beverly didn’t comment on it. “He’s dangerous,” he said after a minute, turning to Beverly. He felt so preened and polished, completely unlike himself, and already he missed his flannel and corduroy pants. He couldn’t wait to get out of this damned suit so he could stop feeling like a painted whore. Which he was, essentially. “And I don’t mean in a typical Alpha way, Bev. I mean legitimately dangerous.”  
“Why?” Bev asked, brow furrowed low over her eyes.

He didn’t answer for a minute, looking down at the ground and biting his lip as he tried to think of how to put this. How to explain the feeling that had been creeping up on him for months now, growing steadily larger with each passing day. But that was just it; it was only a feeling, with no actual proof to back it up. He couldn’t explain why he didn’t trust Hannibal, he just didn’t, and it was entirely unrelated to his dislike towards him because of the marriage. There was just something…off about him. Something that didn’t quite add up.

But after a minute of consideration, he said, “Never mind,” shaking his head.

Beverly opened her mouth to ask something, but she was interrupted by a rather harried wedding planner coming in, who instantly spotted the book by Bev’s hand. “There it is, thank god,” she said, coming in to pick it up. “Mr. Graham, they’re ready for you.”

“Come on, time to go,” Bev said with a heavy sigh, standing up, and for a brief moment Will could see the bulge of the gun beneath her dress. She offered her hand to Will, and after a heavy moment he took it, rising to his feet as well, though he realized, almost absentmindedly, that his legs were shaking. Jesus, would he even be able to walk down the aisle like this?  
Jack had appeared in the doorway, dressed in his own suit, and the sudden realization hit him that this was really happening, that he was really about to walk down the aisle. Right down to Hannibal. Oh god, now he felt sick, and his steps to Jack were slow, shaky, separated by deep, nearly gulping breaths that he couldn’t seem to get under control.

“Are you alright?” Jack asked when Will reached him, his brow furrowing.

“I’m—I’m fine,” Will said, though his own voice sounded strange to his ears, strained and heavy with the gravity of the situation. He knew that he wasn’t convincing anyone, least of all himself, but what else was he supposed to say? This was happening. Oh god, this was really happening right now.

“Come on,” Jack said, gently taking his arm and leading him, and Will blindly followed because he couldn’t move under his own autonomy right now, couldn’t even think, his head spinning far too much. It seemed like he blinked and they were there, at the end of the aisle with Hannibal at the other end, waiting for him with a pleasant smile, his hands folded in front of himself. Jesus. He felt sicker than before and he tried to pull back from Jack, but Jack rather forcefully pulled him forward again, leaning in close to him.

“The papers are already signed, Will, you’re already legally married. This is just the ceremony part of it. Come on, you can make it through this,” he said in a low voice that was no doubt meant to be reassuring, but Will couldn’t hear him, couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of his heart in his ears. He nodded, weakly, and took a step forward when Jack prompted him to, music suddenly swelling around them, the typical bride’s march.

Halfway down the aisle he froze, his body refusing to go anywhere because he was too goddamn dizzy, head spinning as his chest felt tight and he fought to get breaths out, his pulse suddenly rapid. People were whispering around him but he barely noticed, too busy trying not to get sick on the floor, and Jack pulled away from him. A moment later a cool hand was cupping his cheek, and he lifted his eyes to find a reassuring pair of maroon eyes looking at him with a mixture of sympathy and concern.

“You’re having a panic attack, Will. I need you to breathe in for three seconds, hold it for five, and breathe out for three, alright?” The voice speaking was calm, reassuring, and very gently commanding, and Will’s eyes slipped shut as he nodded, trying to focus on his breathing. In for three, hold for five, out for three. In for three, hold for five, out for three. In for three…

It took him a few minutes but he managed to do it, his body steadily calming down enough that he could open his eyes, realizing it was Hannibal in front of him with his hand on his cheek, looking at him with so much concern. That would have been so touching, if Will actually felt anything in return for him other than a general dislike. As it was, he pulled back, Hannibal’s hand sliding off of his cheek, and Hannibal straightened up again, offering him a small, reassuring smile before walking back up to the altar.

“Ready?” Jack asked him, and Will nearly laughed at that, still a bit too dizzy for sarcasm.

“Never,” he answered, but started walking anyway.

The ceremony went off without a hitch. Everything went perfectly, and when the officiator reached the ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ bit, all it took was a look from Hannibal for Will to keep his mouth shut, knowing that his objections weren’t going to do a damn thing but piss his new spouse off. His rather dangerous spouse. Who he had to kiss, for the second time, his lips as flat and unresponsive as he could make them, though thank god Hannibal kept the kiss short and chaste, a typical bride-groom kiss.

After the ceremony, they all moved to the reception, though Hannibal pulled Will aside as the guests started to move. Mostly people Hannibal or Jack knew, not people that Will was familiar with or was only tangentially familiar with. He himself didn’t have many friends, and even if he had, he wouldn’t have wanted them to witness this farce of a wedding. It was disgusting, truly, so why would he want anyone he actually cared about there? No, better that he knew hardly anyone here.

“Are you alright?” Hannibal asked quietly when he had Will to himself, pulled off into a little side hallway.

“I’m fine, I just got dizzy,” Will said, not quite snapping at him, though it was close.

Hannibal paused for a moment, then reached out, brushing a few of Will’s curls away with his hand. “You look beautiful,” he said, and there was a reverence in his voice that Will didn’t like at all.

“I look like a whore,” Will answered, shifting uncomfortably under the hand that had settled on his cheek, gently cupping it. “I _am_ a whore, right now.”

“Just because money was exchanged doesn’t mean you’re a whore. A dowry is a traditional part of marriage, even in Beta marriages. You’re not anything but a free man, Will.”

Oh really? Will had to chuckle at that, though it was dark, with little humor. “Then why did I just have a panic attack while walking down the aisle? That’s not exactly typical, Dr. Lecter. Could it perhaps be that I’m being married off against my will and it put me in a panic?” he asked, bitterness, as always, heavy in his voice.   
“Many brides get cold feet before the wedding. It’s a common occurrence; after all, you’re signing a supposedly lifelong contract.” Jesus Christ, how could he always be so calm and even when saying the most ridiculous things? And honestly, how in denial could he be if he saw Will’s reluctance as simply ‘cold feet’? “I believe your reluctance will pass with time.”

“Then I’m afraid you don’t know me at all, Dr. Lecter.”

Hannibal looked almost pained at that, though whether it was the words or the use of his formal title remained to be seen. “Please, we’re married now. Hannibal is just fine.”

“Fine, Hannibal,” Will nearly spat, anger taking the place of the panic that had been threatening to drown him earlier. “You don’t know me at all. I’m never going to change my mind, not about this. Now can we get this over with?”  
Hannibal sighed softly through his nose, stroking his thumb over Will’s cheek once more before dropping his hand, taking a hold of Will’s hand instead, and the contact made Will feel slightly sick and definitely angry, but he didn’t pull away. This was all just a show that he had to get through, and once he did, he could go back to trying to figure a way out of this. Some way to ensure that Hannibal didn’t want him, though right now the other man seemed pretty firmly attached. That could change with time, though. He could make Hannibal hate him.

They entered the reception area holding hands, and everyone clapped for them in a way that made Will’s stomach turn. Right, just a show. He could get through this, he knew that he could. It would just be difficult, that was all. They took their seats at the center of the boxy u shape made up of multiple tables, Jack sitting to Hannibal’s right and Beverly sitting to Will’s left. Champagne had been set in front of them and Will readily gulped his down, a waiter coming by to refill it just a moment later. Hannibal squeezed his hand underneath the table, a gentle warning, and Will sipped this glass, though he wanted to down it as well. Anything to make this awful experience better.

He managed to at least get slightly buzzed by the time the first dance rolled around, something he and Hannibal had been practicing for, taking lessons with a dance instructor. As such, their movements were smooth and fluid, though Will messed up a few times, Hannibal, leading, always managing to put him back on the right track. It seemed like an eternity, but he knew the song was only a few minutes long and the whole experience was just excruciating enough to feel like a century. But it was over soon enough, and he could retreat back behind the table, Hannibal patting his thigh gently but thankfully removing his hand instead of letting it linger. If he’d left it, he might have lost it.

Dinner afforded Will an excuse not to speak, though Beverly did her best to engage him in conversation, usually managing to lure him into it before lobbing the ball into Hannibal’s court, at which point Will would mumble something and go back to eating, ignoring Hannibal’s presence beside him. Then of course, god, there was the cutting of the cake. Will was tempted to take Hannibal’s face and shove it into the entire cake but he resisted, settling for dabbing some icing on Hannibal’s nose in a gesture that everyone would read as cute when they both knew it was hostile. But Hannibal simply wiped it off with a smile, and worse, leaned in to gently, shortly kiss Will. Will didn’t kiss back, as unresponsive as he’d been earlier, and Hannibal pulled back shortly afterwards, his hand slipping to Will’s lower back.

It was an honest effort not to shove it off, but Will managed to resist, playing along nicely because Hannibal seemed too happy to bring down right now and if he kept going like this, he could lull Hannibal into a false sense of security. Make him believe that he was adjusting to this, when really he was just biding his time while he figured out how to make Hannibal hate him. How to make all of this end, once and for all, though he had to say, the way that Hannibal acted…he really seemed like he was very much in love with Will.

It was in the unconscious little motions he made, the gentle pats and the hand on the small of his back and the light kisses, even though Will wouldn’t respond to them. It was in his eyes when he looked at Will, a happiness that he hadn’t seen on him before that didn’t seem to be easy to destroy. A patience, too, like he was prepared to ride out any storm Will brought because he was worth it, their marriage was worth it. And that was terrifying. It was a horrifying thought, to think that Hannibal was truly in love with him. Because that meant that he wasn’t letting go, not easily, and Will was truly trapped. And after all, first came love, then came marriage, then came—

No, he wasn’t going to think about that right now. Right now he had to focus his attention, drawing himself back out of his thoughts as he listened to Jack give a speech about how proud he was and how Will couldn’t have married a better man, and the whole thing just made him feel so sick that he pushed back his chair, planning on excusing himself as Jack sat down. He was prevented, however, by Hannibal’s hand on his shoulder before he stood, picking up his own glass of champagne.  
“I would like to make a toast as well, though I doubt it will be as eloquent as Jack’s,” he said, and there were a few gentle chuckles. Will stayed were he was, poised on the edge of his chair and ready to bolt at any second, though currently transfixed by Hannibal’s voice, which was layered with a subtle command directed directly at him, waiting to see where Hannibal took this.

“I’m going to make this brief, as I’m sure you’re all eager to return to your desserts. I simply wanted to make a toast to my new husband, Will Graham,” Hannibal continued, and Will nearly rolled his eyes, but somehow—barely—managed to resist the urge. Hannibal raised his glass, everyone following suit, puppets on strings that all led back to Hannibal. Even Jack was under his spell. Sometimes Will wondered if he was the only one left outside of it.

Hannibal turned to him, smiling pleasantly at him, and took a gentle hold of his hand, forcing him to stand. “To my husband, Will. I can’t wait to start my new life with you.” He raised his glass then took a sip, eyes on Will the entire time as he did so, like he was daring Will to say or do anything. Well, if Hannibal wanted to play that way, then Will could certainly play.  
“I’d like to make a toast too,” he said, picking up his own glass and smiling at the room. He turned to Hannibal, raising his glass to Hannibal. “To our future. Let’s hope neither of us dies young.”

He heard Jack audibly choke on his champagne, but only cared about the death gaze he was locked in with Hannibal, who was still smiling pleasantly, that damn good mood of his seeming unsinkable. Hannibal clinked his glass against Will’s before lifting it, saying, “To our future. May we both live long and have many children.”

Oh, that bastard. They both took sips of their champagne, gazes still locked together, the rest of the room suddenly seeming uneasy, no doubt sensing the tension between the two of them. Still, everybody drank, though when Will sat down again he found Jack glowering at him through the barrier of Hannibal. He simply offered him a smile, turning back to his plate as he continued to eat his cake, which was, of course, amazing, because Hannibal had impeccable taste in everything except for men.

If Will hadn’t objected to the wedding, he would have commended Hannibal for the planning he did, as everything was beautiful and went off without a hitch. With things the way they were, though, all he felt was resentment, waiting for something to go wrong so he could feel even slightly vindicated. That wasn’t going to happen, though, and he settled for his toast, the small way he’d gotten back at Hannibal even if it hadn’t counted for much. The goddamn man was just too damn happy for it to work.

And that happiness didn’t wear off through the night, either. It seemed to just grow and grow and grow, Hannibal constantly smiling and even laughing, something Will had never seen him do. He was forced onto the dance floor a few more times by Bev, who’d dance with him, then shove him in Hannibal’s general direction. One of those times he quite literally fell against Hannibal, who supported him easily, taking a light hold of his waist so he couldn’t run away. Will tested that theory, trying to pull away, and Hannibal’s hands tightened, just slightly, in warning, the Alpha in him coming out in the possessive gesture.

“Sorry,” Will mumbled, eyes away from him as he automatically put his hands on Hannibal’s shoulders, ready to push him away at a moment’s notice, though he wouldn’t admit that it was partially for balance as well.

“It’s alright, it seems Beverly pushes a bit too hard,” Hannibal said with an amused chuckle, a warm sound that Will hated. “Perhaps she’s had a tad bit too much champagne.”

“And I haven’t had enough,” Will mumbled, looking at Hannibal’s boutonniere instead of his eyes.

Hannibal evidently wasn’t going to stand for that, as he gently placed his hand on Will’s chin, tipping his head up until Will made eye contact with him. “I think you’ve had plenty,” he said gently, removing his hand and bringing it back to Will’s waist. “Perhaps too much, considering the speech you made.”

“Oh, I don’t need to be drunk to say what I said. I was really just speaking from the heart,” Will said with a patronizing smile that was just a touch bitter around the edges. Razor sharp, and looking to hurt.

“As was I. I hope to have many children and a long future with you.”

“We both know that’s not going to happen Dr.—Hannibal. I’ve explained my views on carrying children before.”

Hannibal seemed to consider it for a moment, pulling Will just a little bit closer to his chest, somewhere Will didn’t want to be, though he didn’t fight it. Not yet. “I believe you’ll change your mind with some time and gentle encouragement.”

Will’s eyes narrowed. “‘Gentle encouragement’? What is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. I’m not quite the villain you make me out to be, Will. I won’t force you to bear children for me. You’ll do it of your own free will,” Hannibal said, his voice calm, as even as it always was, and Will could hear how convinced he was of this, how sure of himself. God, he really thought Will was going to fold, didn’t he? The arrogant asshole—

Will tried to pull away but Hannibal easily pulled him back, a slight show of power as he slipped one of his hands to the small of Will’s back, pulling him close again, their chests nearly flush. “I promise you, Will, that I will do my very best to take care of you. I would never hurt you,” Hannibal said, his voice low, meant for just the two of them. Will tried to pull away again and Hannibal pulled him back patiently, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “Please, at least try to appear happy with me. It’ll make Jack and Bella and Beverly and everyone else happy.”

There were only a few people here that Will actually cared about, and Hannibal had named all of them. Yeah, okay, they’d be happier if he at least pretended to be happy, but if he pretended now, he was going to have to keep up that charade for the rest of his life. If things ended between him and Hannibal, he’d have to agree that it was such a shame, that they should have lasted longer, that he was heartbroken. The very thought was sickening. But at the same time…wasn’t he usually sacrificing his happiness, his sanity for other people? That was how it’d been since Jack started asking him to look at case files, using his empathy while steadily destroying Will, or even before that, when his father started dying. Yes, Will was used to putting on a brave face for the sake of someone else, but this was different. Wasn’t it?

But he didn’t pull away. He stayed dancing with Hannibal, who seemed satisfied with this, happy to have Will in such close proximity to him. He hugged Will close, and Will wrapped his arms around him in return as they steadily shuffled to the music as a slow song came on. He was tired, and worn out, and didn’t want to fight anymore. This whole day had only been emotionally draining and he just wanted to go home, go to bed and never wake up. Except he wasn’t going to his house tonight, was he? He was going to Hannibal’s. His new home.

***

“No, absolutely not,” Will said, flatly refusing, his arms crossed against his chest in a defensive posture that didn’t surprise Hannibal for a second. He’d expected Will to rebel against the idea, refuse as soon as it was proposed. However, he intended to work his way around his objections.

“I’m not going to force myself on you, Will. It’s simply sharing a bed together. Many people do it platonically.”

“You don’t mean it platonically. You mean it as a married couple, which is entirely different and has romantic connotations,” Will said, clearly agitated. “And since I have no romantic feelings towards you, I refuse to share a bed with you. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

He turned to leave, but Hannibal stopped him with a simple, “Will.” His voice was layered with layer upon layer of command, his Alpha side shining through in the not quite sharp tone. It was a calm tone, yes, but it still made it clear that Will was not to move or there would be consequences. Hannibal mostly played nice but sometimes Will was so stubborn that he had to use his natural gifts against him, get him to heel like a good Omega. And now that they were married, he had to show his power in the relationship, his dominance. As much as he wanted Will to be equals with him, he also had to make it clear that certain behavior wasn’t to be tolerated. Or that certain behavior was expected. Such as sharing a bed, especially considering this was their wedding night. Hannibal wasn’t expecting sex from him, knew it was far too early for that—he would worry about that when it came to Will’s first heat—but having them share a bed was essential to Hannibal’s plan. Cuddling with someone, especially someone you didn’t know very well and especially while you were sleep, built up trust. In this case, it would build up both trust and the bond that was slowly (hopefully) building up between them. He needed Will to share a bed with him. It was a necessity.

“What?” Will asked, his voice sharp as he turned back to Hannibal. Seemed that though the Alpha in Hannibal was calling to the Omega in Will, Will still had his attitude about him. That was good, Hannibal liked him with a bit of fight in him.

“Stay. Please. Just for one night. Consider it your wedding gift to me.”

Will snorted. “I don’t owe you a wedding present.”

“That’s a shame, because I got you one.”

Ah, he had Will’s attention with that, and Hannibal smiled as Will looked at him with genuine interest for once. Curiosity was always a dangerous thing, wasn’t it?

“You did?” Will asked, brow furrowed low over azure eyes.

“Of course. I thought it was appropriate, considering your reluctance to marry me. I thought it would be a show of good faith,” Hannibal said, though really, it was more like a bribe than anything. Something to try and get Will accustomed to his new surroundings.

Will didn’t speak for a minute, eyes narrowed as he watched Hannibal, clearly looking for the ulterior motive and trying to decide whether or not it was worth it to give in. “Can I see it?” he finally asked, and Hannibal shook his head.

“Not unless you stay with me tonight,” he said. “Then I’ll show it to you tomorrow.”

And here was where Will had to decide between his curiosity and his pride, but Hannibal already knew what Will was going to pick. He was sure of it, otherwise he wouldn’t have mentioned the gift at all, knowing that it would pique Will’s interest. Though, of course, at some point he was planning on mentioning it, but it made a convenient bargaining chip in this case.

Will took a deep breath, casting a glance at Hannibal’s rather luxurious and rather large bed, no doubt trying to calculate whether or not he could stay in the bed with Hannibal without having to touch him. “Fine,” he said after a minute, and held up one finger. “For exactly one night. That’s it.”

“That’s perfectly alright,” Hannibal said, fighting hard to keep any smugness out of his expression because Will was doing exactly what he wanted him to, and it wouldn’t be just one night. No, he was going to get Will addicted to him, make sure that he wanted to come back every night and into Hannibal’s waiting arms. He was sure he could do it, completely positive that it’d only take a few weeks before Will was completely under his power, at least in this respect. He just had to out wait him.

Will huffed, getting in on one side of the bed, already dressed in his pajamas for the night before they’d started having the discussion of where he was going to sleep. He’d changed as soon as he got home, clearly eager to get out of his wedding clothes, and Hannibal had changed as well to match his casual tone, also tired but still in high spirits from the rather lovely day. Will had mostly behaved himself at the wedding, and even looked cheerful a few times when he thought no one was paying attention. If that wasn’t a sign of progress, he didn’t know what was.

Hannibal shut off the overhead lights to the room, climbing into bed a few seconds after Will and shutting off the lamp next to the bed. God, even just lying alone with Will in the dark like this, separate though they were, was intoxicating, absolutely perfect. He shifted closer to Will on the bed, who, miracle of miracles, didn’t shift away. In fact, unless Hannibal was mistaken, he was shifting slightly closer, his back still to Hannibal, and Hannibal closed the distance between them. He wrapped himself around Will, arm going around his waist and his body pressed fully up against Will’s in a way that definitely wasn’t platonic, but wasn’t sexual either. It was a matter of comfort, and Hannibal was the most comfortable he’d ever been.

“I never agreed to cuddling,” Will said gruffly, though Hannibal noted that he didn’t pull away.

“I’ve heard from Jack that you suffer from nightmares. Contact with someone else while asleep may help to alleviate them,” Hannibal answered, ready with an explanation.

Will chuckled softly, and Hannibal wished he could see his expression to determine how genuine it was. “Always have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“I certainly try.”

A few minutes passed in the dark quiet of the room, before Will asked in a sleepy voice, clearly on the edge of unconsciousness, “Do you love me?”

The question gave Hannibal pause, but not because he didn’t know the answer; more because he hadn’t expected it to come from Will, wasn’t sure what had prompted it in the first place. “Yes,” he said after a minute, rubbing Will’s stomach with his hand. “Very much so.” Whether Will heard him or not was up for debate, though, as Will’s breathing had deepened and Hannibal could tell that he was asleep. Asleep in Hannibal’s arms, the perfect place for him to be.


	6. A is for Adaptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will goes into his first heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: this chapter contains rape/non-con and attempted suicide.**
> 
> Didn't intend to get this out so quickly but it just kind of happened. Mixed it up a bit with the structure, hope you enjoy!

“Oh, Hannibal, please, I need you, oh god, I need you to come in here and fuck me!”  
Hannibal nearly growled, trying the door handle once again and found himself unsuccessful again, Will having firmly locked it against him. Goddamnit he needed to get into that room and get into Will now, every cell in his body was crying out for it and the Alpha in him was growling to move, to claim, to bite. He needed to bond with Will immediately, he could smell him in his heat through the door and it was driving him steadily insane, his need growing with each passing minute.

Will laughed, the act dropped in a second as he reverted back to his true self, the bitter one that didn’t want Hannibal at all, and had locked him out to ensure that no bonding would occur. “Is that what you want me to say?” he asked, his tone amused, the space and locked door between them making him brave. He wouldn’t be so brave when Hannibal managed to get into the room. “That I want you, that I need you right now to come and fill me with your Alpha cock? Well I don’t, Hannibal, and I’m not letting you in until the heat’s over.”

“Will, open this door,” Hannibal said, trying to keep his voice calm but it was strangled, nearly a growl, power in his tone as well as demand. He jiggled the handle forcefully, but only succeeded in getting Will to laugh at him. It seemed that while he could occasionally command Will with the proper Alpha tone, right now was not one of those times. Will was immune to Hannibal’s charms, immune to the pheromones that he knew his body was currently pumping out, responding to Will’s heat with his own scent. Usually Omegas would go crazy at this point, tackle their Alpha to the ground if they had to, desperate to mate, but Will wasn’t like other Omegas. He had no desire for Hannibal, and was making that clear.

Hannibal had tried to be patient, knowing that in all likelihood, he wouldn’t be able to mate with Will during his first heat, but things had been going so well recently and it’d seemed promising. He’d told himself not to get his hopes up, to be patient, to be prepared to have to grit his teeth and make it through Will’s first heat without mating with him, but now that it was actually here, the Alpha in him was screaming for Will, making Hannibal steadily lose his self-control as he tried to get through the door. He needed to get to Will, needed to get to _his_ Omega whose scent was crying out to him so desperately, needed to claim him and bond with him and mate him.

But as soon as the heat had started, Will had run into the bedroom and locked him out, ignoring all of Hannibal’s requests for him to open the door and let him in. Those requests had steadily become more and more like demands until they were here, with Hannibal nearly growling at him as he began to throw his weight against the door, determined to get it open while Will simply laughed at him, clearly under the impression that Hannibal wasn’t strong enough to get it down by himself and that he’d won this round, able to successfully prevent Hannibal from bonding with him.

That was when Hannibal broke down the door.

***  
The morning after their wedding night, Will woke up alone in Hannibal’s rather magnificent bed, slightly confused as to where he was until he remembered the wedding from the night before. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, surprised that he had managed to get any sleep at all considering the circumstances. He hadn’t even had any nightmares, but didn’t Hannibal have an explanation for that? Supposedly their cuddling was beneficial to him, made the nightmares less likely to happen, though Will wasn’t sure how much science there was to back that up. Still, he hadn’t had any nightmares, had had some quite excellent sleep, in fact. Which was surprising.

As he was considering getting out of bed, still sleepy and definitely comfortable, the door opened, Hannibal walking in with a tray of what looked like breakfast. “Good morning,” Hannibal said pleasantly, and Will resisted the urge to groan, having enjoyed his few minutes of peace without the other man.   
“Morning,” was all he said, though, his voice somewhat rough from sleep.

“I thought I’d bring you some breakfast in bed,” Hannibal said, setting the tray down over Will’s lap. “Since it’s your first morning here I wanted to make you comfortable.”

Will nearly snorted at that, but managed to resist the urge, instead taking a look at the food in his lap. It looked amazing, and completely pretentious in the presentation. But food was food, and he turned back to Hannibal, saying, “Thank you. What about you?”

“I already ate,” Hannibal said as he took a seat on the edge of the bed by Will’s legs, watching him as he picked up the coffee on the tray. “I had to guess how you took your coffee. Hopefully I wasn’t too far off.”

“You weren’t, it’s really good,” Will said, having taken a sip. He was surprised by the quality of the coffee, though he really shouldn’t have been. After all, he’d seen Hannibal’s home and his office, not to mention the way he dressed. Hannibal was rather affluent, that much was obvious, so of course his coffee was also the best. It had to be.

“I’m glad. Did you sleep well?”  
Will nodded, too busy sipping his coffee to answer for a minute. “Very well. Did you?” It felt strange to be exchanging morning pleasantries with Hannibal, making domestic small talk like they really were husbands, a fact that Will still refused to accept though he’d signed the papers just a few days ago. The whole thing made him uncomfortable, itching in his own skin, and he set down his coffee again, picking up his fork as Hannibal continued to watch him, his eyes, it seemed, fixed on Will and Will alone.

“Yes, thank you. It was the best sleep I’ve had in a while, but that’s to be expected. Usually I don’t have a guest in my bed,” Hannibal said, laying a hand on Will’s leg, though Will shifted uncomfortably underneath the touch. “Bedmates can often ease sleep along. It certainly seemed to help with your nightmares.”

Yeah, but he didn’t want to talk about that, didn’t even want to acknowledge it. Instead, he ate, letting the room drift into a silence that wasn’t quite uncomfortable but came close. Hannibal seemed content to just watch him eat, Will not entirely comfortable under his gaze, though at least he wasn’t being required to make eye contact with him. He could stay looking down at his food, enjoying the meal that must have taken Hannibal quite a bit of effort, which would have been sweet if their situation was anything different than what it actually was. Which was just hostile, at least on Will’s part, at the moment.

“So,” Will asked after a few minutes, “when do I get to see my present?”  
***

As soon as the door came down Will ran for it, running into the bathroom and trying to shut the door, but Hannibal was too quick for him. He easily batted the door back open, crowding Will up against the back wall by the sink, eyes dark as he looked at him. Will, for his part, looked genuinely afraid, all bravado gone in the face of Hannibal’s very real and very terrifying anger and desire. It made Hannibal feel powerful, dominant, as he should feel. He was the Alpha and this was his Omega, his husband, his soon to be mate. He would take him as his, and no one, not even Will, could stop him.

“You shouldn’t have locked me out, Will,” Hannibal said, and then slammed Will back against the wall, Will crying out in pain as his head connected with it sharply. The noise didn’t last long because Hannibal was quickly claiming his lips in a ferocious kiss, pinning Will’s wrists against the wall as he started to struggle to push him off. But Hannibal’s grip was tight enough to hurt and Will was left struggling underneath him, trying to thrash and flail and get him off, but it was absolutely no use. Hannibal was completely in his Alpha mode, beyond reason at the moment, and Will was about to go the same way as Hannibal’s self-control: completely and utterly wrecked.

Will twisted out of the kiss, gasping for air, and Hannibal turned his attention to his neck, nipping and licking at it, scenting him and just taking in that unbelievable aroma, the fevered sweetness of an Omega in heat. Will was panting from his heat, his body flushed and sweating, and Hannibal had never seen him so inviting before. He was already wet too, Hannibal could tell, open and ready to be mated, his body going through all of the biological motions despite the fact that he didn’t feel any desire to mate, didn’t want this. Hannibal would have cared about that, if he had any type of reason left. Instead all he could think was _mate mate mate mine mine mine_ , a string of possessive words in his head as he rutted lightly against Will, allowing him to feel his hardness through his suit pants.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, no, Hannibal, you can’t do this, please don’t do this,” Will said, begging now, and it sent a rush of pleasure through Hannibal, even though it was the wrong kind of begging. Will should have been begging for him to bond with him, not to stop, but that wasn’t to be helped. He simply hadn’t come around yet. He would, in the next few minutes.  
Hannibal roughly undid Will’s belt, moving on to the zipper and fly, and Will started to panic, breathing nearly to the point of hyperventilating. No, his mate was distressed. His mate wasn’t supposed to be distressed. Hannibal managed to slow down for a moment, nuzzling against Will’s neck and pressing kisses there, the whole thing designed to calm Will down. It seemed to work, Will’s breathing at least slowing a bit, his pulse, audible to Hannibal’s keen ears, slowing as well. That done, he went back to undoing Will’s pants, bringing the panic raring back in full force.

“Shh, it’s alright Will,” he said, continuing to undress him anyway, nearly ripping his shirt off so he was almost half naked at this point. “It’s not going to hurt.”

“No, please, Hannibal, stop you have to stop, I can’t do this, you _know_ I can’t do this—”

Hannibal cut him off with a bruising kiss, sliding his hand directly down the front of Will’s pants and boxer briefs, beginning to stroke him gently. Will shuddered underneath him, clearly trying to fight the sensation but unable to, his body too needy for the contact at the moment, all revved up and ready to go, though it was purely physical. Mentally, he had no desire for this whatsoever, but at this point Hannibal didn’t care. They needed to bond, now. Hannibal needed to fill him with his seed, his children, his offspring, the sooner the better. He was nearly aching for it.

When Hannibal pulled back this time, Will chased his lips, and Hannibal smiled as he kissed him again, knowing that he could overwhelm his system with touches and kisses, use his Omega nature against him. His body was responding to an Alpha being in the room, even if his mind wasn’t, Hannibal could feel it, could sense the way he opened just a bit more, his body lubricating itself in preparation for being knotted. Will’s body was steadily betraying him, desperate for the contact, desperate for there to be something, anything between them, desperate to be bonded and mated to Hannibal, and Hannibal was fully prepared to use it against him.

He reached his hand down to undo his own pants, still pinning Will’s wrists with one hand, managing to free himself from what currently felt like the prison of his pants and underwear. Quickly, he returned to stripping Will, though Will was starting to plead again, though his pleas were a little less convincing this time around. He continued to kiss and nuzzle against him in typical mating gestures meant to set him at ease, and finally succeeded in stripping Will bare, still having him pinned against the wall. Now, now was the best part. He nudged Will’s legs apart, Will fighting him the entire way, and then hoisted him up, Will’s legs on either side of his waist. And finally, finally, he was sinking Will down onto him, and then he was finally inside of him.

***

Unsurprisingly, Hannibal made Will finish his breakfast before agreeing to show him his present, first taking the tray down to the kitchen, Will in tow. He set it down by the sink before heading out of the room, beckoning for Will to follow, which he did, though he felt a little bit like a dog following its master. And Hannibal certainly wasn’t his master. He wasn’t his anything, except captor, maybe.

Hannibal led him to the back of the house, an area he’d never been in before, and offered him a smile before opening a door and stepping aside. “Your present,” he said, and Will hesitantly stepped into the room.

It was a completely outfitted den, complete with leather furniture, fishing supplies in plain sight, and more ‘manly’ decorations on the wall that definitely didn’t fit the rest of the décor in Hannibal’s house. In fact, the whole room seemed to clash with Hannibal’s aesthetic, really letting Will know that Hannibal had only done this for his benefit. This was his wedding gift; a room just to himself, quiet and separated from the rest of the house where he could just spend time by himself if he wanted to. Hopefully without Hannibal disturbing him.  
He explored for a minute, curious, then turned back to find Hannibal watching him with a small smile. “Do you like it?” Hannibal asked, and Will nodded.

“It’s great. I don’t know what I’ll do with it, but I appreciate the gesture.”  
“I hoped you would. I thought it would be good if you had your own space in the house, so perhaps you felt more comfortable staying here.”

That was still unlikely to happen, but Hannibal didn’t need to know that, not right now. Right now Will gave him a small smile that Hannibal seemed delighted to see, and headed back out of the room. “So what’s on your agenda for today? Clients, I’m sure,” Will said, hoping that that was the answer because it meant he would have time to himself.

“Of course not. I took time off for the wedding and our honeymoon,” Hannibal said. They weren’t taking an official honeymoon because Will was still a flight risk, and if Hannibal lost him in Europe he’d never get him back, everyone knew that. So it’d be deemed safer to have a honeymoon at home instead. Will was frustrated at being denied a chance to get away, but worse was now having a few weeks alone with Hannibal, to ‘solidify their bond’. That was just about the last thing he wanted to do. They didn’t have a bond to solidify because Will still intensely disliked Hannibal. He’d never bond with him, not in the figurative or literal sense of the word. Especially not in the literal sense, actually.

“Right. I forgot.”

Hannibal tilted his head to the side just slightly, watching Will. “You’re displeased with that.” He straightened his head again. “If you want, for the first day we can go our separate ways. But after that, I’m afraid I’ll have to request that we spend some time together.”

“Okay,” Will said, agreeing because this was probably the best deal he could possibly get out of this. Hannibal was clearly eager to get closer to him, so one day separate was about all Will was going to get, and he was lucky to have that.

“I will, however, expect to see you for meals,” Hannibal said, and Will nodded.

So they spent the day apart. But that was the only day apart. After that, they were together all the time, Will suffocated by Hannibal’s constant presence. He was there in the morning when he woke up, there at night when he went to bed, and there during the day when they spent time together. Because, of course, one night in Hannibal’s bed turned out to not be just one night. The second night Hannibal managed to lure him in again, promising a lack of nightmares that Will desperately needed. That night he did have a nightmare, waking up sweating and screaming, but Hannibal managed to calm him back down, holding him and telling him it was alright until he went back to sleep. After that, it just became a habit; Hannibal’s bed was comfortable, and yes, while Hannibal was there—usually a major drawback—he did help when nightmares hit, and usually kept them away. Point blank, Will simply slept better while next to the other man, as much as he hated admitting it.

But it wasn’t just mornings and nights that they were together, it was all the time. Will was off of his suppressants entirely now in preparation for his first heat while married, the one everyone expected babies out of, and as a result, Hannibal wouldn’t let him out of his sight, afraid of another Alpha getting too aggressive or possessive over _his_ territory. So anytime Will went out, Hannibal came too, and of course that meant that Hannibal wanted to hold hands, wanted to use possessive little gestures to say that Will was his. As if the matching rings on their hands weren’t enough. To Will it was like a fucking beacon announcing that they were newlyweds, but Hannibal clearly didn’t think so. Damn possessive Alphas.

But it wasn’t actually as bad as he’d thought it would be. Sure, Hannibal was quite clearly possessive, and quite clearly in love with him—hell, he’d confessed it directly to him—but their conversations were at least entertaining. Hannibal was interesting and insightful, intelligent and impeccable. He could discuss a wide range of subjects with ease, and Will was never bored with him, more confused as to why Hannibal had picked him in the first place. They weren’t the right match for each other, never had been. Hannibal needed someone more intelligent, more cultured, more manicured like him. Not rough around the edges, uncultured, smart but not far above average Will.

But for some reason he wanted him. He had chosen Will, and now it was too late to turn back because he loved him despite Will’s open animosity. And that didn’t seem like it was changing anytime soon, as Will tested the waters in whatever way he could, Hannibal no doubt seeing through what he was doing. Still, things weren’t bad. He could survive like this for much longer he was sure. At least, that was what he thought until his first heat.

***

Will let out a cry when Hannibal fully seated himself inside of him, pressing him back against the wall to help carry some of Will’s weight, but it seemed less a cry of pain and more a cry to signify that he was finally full, something that would release endorphins in his brain even if Will didn’t consciously want this. His body did, and that was what counted right now, what Hannibal was relying on. He needed Will to need him, and physically, he did. Mentally, he was sure Will was screaming, worst fears coming true as he clawed at Hannibal’s back, trying to get him to release him.

But Hannibal didn’t care about any of that right now, only cared about the absolutely wonderful sensation of being inside Will, of finally getting what he’d been craving for months now, what he’d wanted since even before they were married. He could never deny the sexual attraction he’d had towards Will, the need he’d had to claim him, mount him, breed him. And now he was finally getting his chance.

“Hannibal, please!” Will gasped, but Hannibal was too far gone and he didn’t care what Will wanted anymore. He simply took that statement to mean Will wanted more from him, and gently rolled his hips up, moaning softly at the friction it created.

“No, no no no no no—”

“Shh, love,” Hannibal whispered, and kissed him again, cutting him off to try and get him high on endorphins instead, shut his brain up through the use of pheromones. Will’s nails were digging into his back and he had to say that he liked it, liked the hot pain from the scratches he’d already inflicted. It just meant that Will was passionate, right? Passionate and ready to be mated. Nearly crying out for Hannibal’s attention, his cock.

Hannibal rolled his hips again, aiming this time, trying to find Will’s sweet spot to aid in making this easier, though Will’s easy lubrication was already making it quite easy. He knew exactly when he found it, Will making a keening sound against his lips, and continued to aim for it with a smirk, bringing Will to orgasm with just a few short thrusts, his body completely prepared to give up and give in to Hannibal. All told, Hannibal made Will come at least three times more before he knotted him, his body over stimulated and needing the relief that could only come from an Alpha truly, deeply knotting him.  
And that was exactly what Hannibal did. He buried himself deep in Will and came, his knot forming inside of Will and ensuring that the two of them would not separate for the foreseeable future. At that moment, Will tipped his head back on instinct, baring his throat, and Hannibal instantly seized on the chance, biting down hard to finish the bond. Will cried out at the bite, nails digging deeply into Hannibal’s shoulders, but Hannibal didn’t release for a few minutes, riding out his orgasm and ensuring that the bond was solidified.

Finally, they were bonded. Finally they were officially mates, officially together. Finally, he had filled Will with himself, with the potential of children, and it was a feeling unlike any other. He pulled away from the wall, taking Will with him, and carried him back to the bed in the room, laying them both down, still connected together. He rested his forehead against Will’s, breathing heavily, wishing for eye contact that Will wouldn’t give him. Will was keeping his eyes closed, like he didn’t even want to face the world, face the reality of what had happened.

“I love you,” Hannibal said gently, and pressed a soft kiss to Will’s lips, knowing he wouldn’t get an answer in return. And yes, all he got was silence, but that was alright. Will would come around eventually.

***

Will couldn’t speak to Hannibal at the moment, could barely even breathe as they lay together on Hannibal’s bed, both breathing heavily in the silence. Everything had come crashing down so quickly, and he was still trying to pick up the pieces of his shattered psyche, piece himself back together again after what had happened. After what Hannibal had done to him, the violation that had occurred.

He waited until Hannibal was asleep to try to move. No luck, at first. They were firmly knotted together, at least for the time being. The knot would soften and disappear with time, but he wasn’t sure how much time he had. Hannibal had fallen asleep, for now at least, but there was no telling how long he’d be asleep for and he needed to get a move on this now if he was going to do it. God, was he really going to do this? He already knew the answer to that.

It took quite a while before he could move, but luckily Hannibal was still asleep when he did. He slipped off of the bed, wincing slightly as he tweaked what were no doubt the bruises on his hips from where Hannibal held him, and padded into the bathroom, quietly shutting and locking the door. Just a second in the med cabinet and he’d located what he was looking for, and took the bottle out.

One. Two. Three. Four handfuls of pills, all taken in a hurry because he wasn’t sure when Hannibal was going to get up and he couldn’t risk him interrupting. No, he needed to make sure that Hannibal didn’t interrupt at all, and set the hamper in front of the door, for whatever good that would do. That done, he went to lay in the dry bathtub, naked, cold, and starting to feel the effects of the sleeping pills, everything slowing down. The last thing he heard before he slipped into unconsciousness was a call of his name, and then he was gone.

Well, he’d told Hannibal one of them had to die. Turned out it was him.    


	7. A is for Attempted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone deals with the aftermath of Will's suicide attempt.

“Will. Will, can you hear me?”

A hand tapping his cheek, then two hands shaking him gently, but each sensation felt far away, distant in the blackness that was covering his vision. He couldn’t open his eyes if he tried, the lids heavy and weighed down by some unknown force, and he didn’t want to open them. It was nice in this darkness, where he was simply floating, at peace for once in his life.

“Will, please, I need you to open your eyes.”

No, he wasn’t going to, and whoever was speaking to him couldn’t make him. He wouldn’t do it, simple as that. He didn’t owe that voice anything. He was high and feeling fine right now, even if all of his limbs felt like lead and his tongue felt excruciatingly dry in his mouth. Suddenly, though, he felt his mouth being opened, a pair of fingers going in, aiming for the back of his throat, and then he was violently vomiting, heaving up the contents of his stomach onto the cold tile underneath his cheek. He coughed and spluttered as the vomiting stopped a few minutes later, shivering violently, suddenly finding himself to be freezing cold and the high to be disappearing rapidly.

“Come on, we have to take you to the hospital.”

He felt himself get picked up, someone carrying him for what felt like quite a while. Eventually, he was laid down again, something soft and warm draped over him, and then he was strapped in with something. He heard an engine start, and suddenly they were moving, though he didn’t care where they were going. The lovely blackness was still beckoning him in, and it wasn’t long before he passed out again.

***

“But he’s alright.”

Hannibal nodded, crossing one leg over the other. “They had to pump his stomach, but he’s alright. He’s very resilient, I expected him to pull through. Of course I stayed with him while he was in the hospital, but now…”

“Now?” Bedelia asked, cocking her head to the side slightly.

Hannibal sighed lightly. “Now I’m afraid that I’ve had to put him elsewhere instead of taking him home, where he should be.”

“Where is he?”

“The Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.”

Bedelia’s delicate brow furrowed over blue eyes. “But he’s not a criminal,” she said, and Hannibal looked away from her.

“No, but Frederick Chilton is an old colleague of mine. It wasn’t hard to convince him of Will’s need for institutionalization. After all, he needs help. Help that I’m afraid I cannot provide on my own,” he answered, and looked down at his lap as he brushed down the leg of his pants.

“So you committed him,” Bedelia said, and there was a slight twitch in Hannibal’s face, the only sign of his displeasure at the particular phrase she was using. “Because he tried to kill himself after what you did.”

“I had him committed because obviously Will’s issues ran deeper than I thought. I never thought he was capable of hurting himself simply in rebellion against our marriage.” His tone changed, almost imperceptibly. “I thought things were going well.”

“So you believe he tried to kill himself as an act of rebellion.”

Hannibal tilted his head, eyes returning to her, something curious in his gaze. “I take it from your tone that you disagree.”

“I do,” she said, looking down at her lap rather than meeting Hannibal’s gaze. “But it’s not my place to speculate on Will’s motivations. You have to decide on what you believe yourself.”

“I would be interested in your theory, though,” he said, and her eyes lifted to his again.  
There was a pause, a breathless moment in the room as Hannibal waited for Bedelia to speak, curiosity piqued. “I believe that he attempted to kill himself because of the events directly preceding his attempt,” she finally said, voice clearly hesitant.

“You mean our mating,” Hannibal said, and she nodded. “Why is that?”

“From what you’ve told me, Will is horrified and repulsed by sex. Being forced into a position where he has to face that fear was naturally traumatic for him. He knew that once you woke up, you would want to mate again, multiple times, as is typical during an Omega’s heat, and he couldn’t stand the thought. So he chose a different way out of the situation.”

Hannibal didn’t speak for a moment, seeming to size up Bedelia in the silence before saying, “So you’re saying that Will’s suicide attempt is my responsibility.”

“In a way, yes. By your theory, it’s already your responsibility for forcing the marriage on him, as well as Jack’s and everyone else’s. At some point you have to realize that you’re at least partially responsible for his attempt, Hannibal. No matter what motive you believe him to have, it involves you.”

A heavy silence followed on the tail of her words, the two of them simply looking at each other throughout it. Eventually, Hannibal was the first to move, uncrossing his legs again, seeming unable to get comfortable in his chair. “Perhaps you’re right. Will hasn’t spoken a word to me since it happened. I need to find some sort of peace offering.”

“Offer to bring him home. He’d be more comfortable there, able to recover without cameras on him.”

Hannibal shook his head. “I need him to recover first. He needs more help than I can give him by myself.”

“So you’ve decided to leave him there,” Bedelia said, and Hannibal paused before nodding.   
“For now. Just until he comes to his senses and is no longer at risk.” He looked up at her, maroon eyes inscrutable. “I just want him to be better.”

***

Will laughed, a somewhat harsh sound in the otherwise quiet of the visitation room. “Are you seriously trying to be an emissary for Hannibal?” he asked, his tone amused, and Beverly sighed, looking away from him.  
“I’m simply trying to figure out why you decided to down an entire bottle of sleeping pills and try to take a dirt nap,” she said, eyes returning to him. “It’s not exactly typical behavior for newlyweds.”

“Yeah, it’s also not typical behavior for one newlywed to rape the other one.” Will’s voice was sharp, bitter, having absolutely none of this today or any other day for that matter. “What Hannibal did is inexcusable. I don’t give a fuck how many apologies he makes or how many people he sends to talk to me, I’m not speaking to him. Ever again, if I can manage it. The bastard deserves much worse, but I’m just an Omega, what can I do? He has the legal right to have me committed and apparently my suicide attempt was convincing enough for Dr. Chilton.” He leaned a bit closer, eyes sharp. “Nothing he can do will make me forgive him, Bev, and the longer I spend in this institution the better I’ll feel because you know what? At least I’m away from Hannibal.”

“Come on, Will, you can’t mean that. Yeah, he fucked up, I’m not making excuses for him, but he’s still your husband, and is going to stay that way. He cares about you, he just can’t show it well.”

Will laughed again, his tone dry when he spoke. “And by that you mean his version of caring is raping me and then putting me in an institution for the criminally insane, which I am not. I tried to kill myself to get away from him and he can’t accept that, so he put me here and started sending you and Jack to try and get me to ‘come around’. Well I’m not going to, so you can all stop trying.”

Seriously, what did they expect from him after what had happened? What did they think his suicide attempt was for, if not because of Hannibal and his actions immediately beforehand?  How could they all be so clearly in denial about why he’d done it, and how he felt about it now? He had every right and several reasons to hate Hannibal, and the latest one was the violation he’d experienced at his hands that he was never going to be able to forget. Hannibal had made his worst fears come true, and had even had the gall to _apologize_ , saying that his Alpha instincts had made him do it and he’d lost control of himself, like that was a fucking excuse. There was no excuse for what he’d done, and Will intended to make it clear that he wasn’t going to forgive him. Not now, not ever. And that started with cutting off all contact that he could with him.

Hence the presence of Beverly and Jack quite often, both of them trying to coax him back into a relationship with Hannibal. Too late. There was no relationship to speak of, never had been. He had never loved Hannibal, just generally disliked him, and now that dislike had turned to hatred, pure, cold hatred. That was how he would continue to feel, no danger of that changing anytime soon. And he did, honestly, feel better being here, because at least it meant that he didn’t have to see Hannibal and deal with the flood of memories that came with seeing him, the hands on his hips and the feeling of being full, painfully full, and the wet stickiness that came from his own body against his will. His heats were what had damned him, and he wished to god that he didn’t have them. At least he would probably be going back onto heat suppressants now that his first heat was over and he was surrounded by hungry Alphas in this place. Most of the orderlies were Alphas, needing that extra strength to help them control the more violent patients, and if an Omega went into heat near them, they probably wouldn’t be able to control themselves. And obviously that was the last thing that Hannibal would want, considering their ‘bond’.

Will didn’t feel any different after bonding with Hannibal. He didn’t suddenly crave his presence, didn’t need him to survive. He didn’t feel anything towards Hannibal, aside from a hatred that was steadily burning through his skin, liable to make him explode at any minute. Only he didn’t want to hurt himself anymore, unless it caused Hannibal excruciating pain. It had certainly seemed to hurt him last time, hopefully bruised the fuck out of his ego, as he sat by Will in the hospital and watch over him, three piece suits getting rumpled, clothing in disarray as he waited for Will to wake up. But Will would rather hurt him directly, find something that he loved and absolutely destroy it. But currently, Will was the only thing he knew for certain Hannibal loved.

Beverly sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Fine, be like that. I don’t honestly care if you make up with Hannibal. I care about whether or not you’re going to hurt yourself again.” There was genuine concern in her tone, a softness to her eyes, and Will softened, just a bit.  
“I’m not in danger of hurting myself again, Bev. The only person I want to hurt is Hannibal.”

“I get it, I do. But that’s not an easy task, Will, and literally every single law ever created is against you on this. What Hannibal did to you isn’t even really considered a crime because you’re married,” Beverly said. “Omega rights may have come a long way in the past one hundred years or so, but they’re still way behind the times. If you try to attack Hannibal, everyone and everything will be against you.”

Will dipped his head in a nod, curls shifting. “I know. But I’m going to find a way to repay him for this, just wait.”

She sighed again, shaking her head. “You’re insane,” she said, and he smiled, though it was dry, with little humor.  
“I am sitting on the proper side of the table for that,” he said, raising his hands to display his handcuffs. “Everyone thinks I am. Or am at least at risk of hurting myself again. You should hear Jack when he comes in, he always likes to tell me how devastated Bella was when she heard and how much she cried when she saw me in the hospital. He should need a permit for that much guilt tripping.”

“Yeah, he’s been a joy to have around the office, especially with this Chesapeake Ripper stuff ramping up.”

Ah, now that caught his interest. “What do you mean, ramping up?” he asked, brow furrowed slightly over sea blue eyes.

Bev opened her mouth to speak, then caught herself, shaking her head. “Never mind,” she said, standing to leave. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll see you again soon, kay?”

She left before he could ask any more questions, the blonde orderly on watch letting her out, and a minute later, coming back for Will, to escort him to his cell. Will went without a fuss, though he walked straight past a smirking Frederick Chilton, who seemed delighted to have Will as a guest in his institution. Seemed that he was interested in the way that Will’s mind worked, the empathy that he could so easily call up and that was such a burden on his life.   
“Mr. Graham,” Chilton acknowledged with a tilt of his head. “I’m looking forward to our therapy session tomorrow.”

“And I’m looking forward to being within spitting distance of you,” Will responded, and the smile disappeared off of Chilton’s lips.   
“Yes, you were so kind to share with me last time,” he said, distaste in his tone, and Will smiled at him before he was moved along, past him.

Chilton’s therapy sessions had so far been ineffective, as Will spent most of the time in silence or talking about inconsequential things that had nothing to do with himself or his own psyche. He refused to give Chilton the pleasure of psychoanalyzing him, considering he’d probably just do a hack job of it, like he did with everything else psychological that he touched. Will didn’t have any respect for him, and made that quite clear. Hannibal didn’t either, though, so it seemed that no one was on Chilton’s side but Chilton. And yet Hannibal had left Will here to be discussed and analyzed and probed, was this supposed to be some kind of punishment for what he’d done? It certainly seemed that way. Hannibal was treating him like a fucking pet that had misbehaved, what the fuck was wrong with him? And what was wrong with everyone else, that they couldn’t see that?

Marriage had been meant to ‘fix’ him. Make him better. Instead it had ended up with him getting raped and then trying to off himself. How delusional was everyone involved if they still thought there was some chance of Will and Hannibal’s relationship being ‘saved’? Hannibal most of all, because Will knew that Hannibal was smart enough to realize what he’d done, the mistake that he’d made. After all, he had tried to apologize, hadn’t he? And Will had tacitly ignored him, directing all of his questions about his health and being in the hospital at Jack, which it seemed that Hannibal couldn’t stand. Ignoring him was actually working out quite well; Hannibal seemed desperate for his attention, ready and willing to do anything to make Will forgive him. Something that Will could use to his advantage in the future, perhaps, in case he needed to play along and pretend again. He was sure, if the need arose, that he could manipulate Hannibal to get what he wanted. The question was more what he wanted right now.

The orderly led him back to his cell, uncuffing him and locking him in again. A few minutes later he returned a few minutes later with a tray of food that looked much larger than what they usually gave him.   
“I think you mixed up my tray with someone else’s,” Will pointed out as he accepted it when it was handed to him.

“No, that’s yours alright. We wanted to give you the right amount since you’re eating for two now,” the orderly said, sounding far too cheerful.  
Will’s brow furrowed over his eyes. “Eating for two?”

“They didn’t tell you yet?” The orderly frowned, then popped into a smile. “Congratulations, you’re pregnant.”

 


	8. A is for Ally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will finds an unexpected ally.

Pregnant. The word reeled around Will’s head, banging off the corners of his skull and bouncing back into the forefront of his brain, where he couldn’t ignore it. Not that he could ignore it anyway, because currently it was the only word occupying his consciousness, the only word that he could possibly think of. It rang through his head like a curse word, leaving a bad taste in his mouth, bile rising in the back of his throat, and he nearly had to go to the toilet to throw up, but managed to recover himself in time.

Pregnant. No, he couldn’t be. That simply wasn’t possible, it couldn’t be, after only having sex with Hannibal once? Well, he supposed it could happen, though the odds were slim. It depended on how fertile he was, how easily he could get pregnant from limited contact. It only took one heat for a pregnancy to start, but he couldn’t be pregnant, he just couldn’t be. He couldn’t actually have a life growing inside of him, something that depended on him for its continued survival. He looked down at his stomach, putting a hand to it as he contemplated the idea. The idea alone was enough to freak him out—a life growing inside of him, feeding off of his food, sharing his heartbeat. Like a parasite, trapped inside of him and unable to come out for nine months. He nearly shuddered at the thought, setting aside his rather full and rather unappetizing tray of food— _eating for two_ —not sure if he’d get back to it later. Right now food sounded like the least appealing thing in the world to him, even if he was supposed to be feeding the life inside of him. _Especially_ if he was supposed to be feeding the life inside of him.

God, his head was in such a flurry and he didn’t know what to do, what to think. This brought up so many questions that he wasn’t prepared to answer, wasn’t even prepared to think about. Did Hannibal know? Shit, fuck, did Hannibal _know_? If he did was he on his way to collect Will, pick him up and bring him ‘home’ so that he could carry the baby in comfort? Or was he going to leave Will here a while longer, continue to punish him for his misdeeds while he steadily grew with the pregnancy, got bigger and fatter and grew into, into—

He did actually throw up this time, barely managing to make it to the toilet in time, vomiting up the rather limited contents of his stomach. Fuck. He sat down next to the toilet with his back to the wall, chest heaving as he tried to calm himself down, automatically going into a stress breathing pattern because he didn’t think he’d ever been this panicked before in his life. Even when he’d realized what Hannibal was going to do to him the day he broke down the door during Will’s heat, he hadn’t felt this panicked. This was a whole new class, in a world of its own, and he was failing miserably at calming himself down.

He couldn’t be pregnant, he just couldn’t be. He couldn’t carry a child to term, especially not Hannibal’s child. God, what a little monster that baby would be. And it would need to feed from him, and he’d have to care for it, and raise it with Hannibal, and—he threw up again, retching miserably into the toilet.  
“Mr. Graham, are you alright? Dr. Chilton sent me to check up on you.”

He turned to see a familiar looking brunette orderly outside of his cell, peering in and looking concerned. He spoke with a slight lisp, almost inaudible, and Will was still trying to place where he’d seen him before when he realized he’d actually been asked a question.

“I’m…I’m fine,” he said, though his voice was weak, strained. “Tell Dr. Chilton I’m fine.” He’d forgotten about the constant cameras on him, the mics wired into the institution that always told Chilton what was going on. And of course, Chilton would mostly be spying on _him_ because he wanted to be buddy buddy with Hannibal and always let him know what was going on with his husband. Disgusting, the whole thing was just disgusting, but Will knew that he wasn’t in a position where he could do anything about it. He couldn’t do anything about anything right now, not with the state he was in.

The orderly didn’t move, though, simply watching him, and Will made a brief moment of eye contact with him before immediately looking away again, finding his eyes to be far too dark and far too intense to look directly into. An Alpha through and through, that one was. It was clear in his eyes, in the look he was giving Will, though it wasn’t screaming superiority complex. He was looking at Will almost with…no, Will didn’t know how to classify it. He’d always been good at categorizing emotions but this particular Alpha was difficult to read, and there was a duality in his eyes. Like he was hiding something in plain sight.

"Alright. I’ll tell him,” the orderly finally said, taking a step back from the bars. “But you should eat something, Mr. Graham. It’s not good for your health or the health of the baby to skip.” And like that he was off, walking back down the hallway and swinging his keys.

The baby. Jesus Christ, he was going to be sick again. Surely this wasn’t the normal reaction to a pregnancy. Usually prospective parents experienced joy upon being told that they were going to have a child, not sheer fucking terror and a lingering nausea that wouldn’t go away and that made them physically sick. No, his reaction was unique, caused by his own fear and repulsion towards the very idea of carrying a child. He couldn’t get over the idea no matter how hard he tried, he’d never been able to. When he was younger, and knew about the marriage, he’d tried to imagine carrying a child for his future husband, and he’d always just ended up disgusting himself with it, freaking himself out. It wasn’t something he’d ever wanted, and now Hannibal had inadvertently—or not so inadvertently—forced him into it. God, yeah, he was going to be sick again.

But his stomach didn’t have anything left to give and he collapsed against the wall, exhausted all of the sudden by the racing thoughts in his head that wouldn’t leave him alone. All of the questions that he had, the concerns, the anxieties that wouldn’t leave him be. And always, always, that general feeling of disgust and repulsion that he carried with him when it came to sex and pregnancy. Jesus, how was he going to get through this? How could he, when the very thought of it made him vomit?

He closed his eyes, resting his head back against the wall and trying to find thoughts that didn’t make him sick. The alternative was anger at Hannibal, and there was plenty of that. He knew that Will was repulsed and frightened by sex, how the fuck could he go against all of that and take what he wanted from him and then make him pregnant? _Pregnant._ It was bad enough that Hannibal had violated him, worse that it had resulted in a pregnancy. And of course, as a married Omega, Will didn’t have any rights of his own left, nothing that would protect his right to abort the child. In fact, if he even attempted without his Alpha’s consent, he could be brought up on murder charges. Even with his Alpha’s consent it was nearly impossible to get an abortion, the only legal reasons allowing it being that either the health of the parent was at risk from having the child, or the Omega had been raped by someone who was not their Alpha. If they’d been raped by their own Alpha, well, they were married, so technically it wasn’t rape. Laws existed to protect Betas from marital rape, but not Omegas. Because, once again, they were something to be looked after. A precious commodity to be controlled. And Hannibal certainly had control over Will right now.

Did he know? That was the biggest question right now, the one weighing the heaviest on Will’s mind. Because if Hannibal knew, he was in such deep shit. Hannibal would no doubt already be preparing a nursery, child proofing his house in preparation for the life growing inside of Will. He would be ecstatic, beyond enthusiastic about Will being pregnant, carrying his children. It was what he’d wanted all along, wasn’t it? To start a family with Will, and only with Will? Will was what he’d wanted from the beginning and a child would add to that, make things much worse. It’d be that much harder to extricate himself from Hannibal, especially because he knew if he did have a child, he’d become emotionally invested. It wasn’t like he could just cut it and run; that child would be his flesh and blood as well as Hannibal’s, and he’d feel obligated to raise it. But he couldn’t. God, he couldn’t do this.

He returned to the bed sometime later, sitting next to the tray of food that was making him sick to his stomach every time he looked at it. He ended up setting it on the floor, knowing he wasn’t going to eat it because he wasn’t capable of eating anything right now. Fuck, he wasn’t capable of anything period right now. All he could do was sit in his cell and wait, wait to see what was going to happen to him. And the baby. What was going to happen to him and the baby?

***

“I wanted to tell you the news myself, but apparently an orderly beat me to it,” Chilton said, sounding a little bit put out by the whole thing.

Will didn’t answer, staring directly ahead at the wall across from him, eyes blank. His mind was elsewhere right now, barely listening to what Chilton was saying. He’d come by to gloat, not even half an hour after Will had been told the news, and Will’s stomach was still churning with nausea and anxiety that wouldn’t leave him be. He didn’t care what Chilton had to say, didn’t care what anyone had to say right now, too lost in his own head and the thoughts swirling in his head like someone casually swirling their drink. He was just waiting for Chilton to try to take a sip of his brain.

“Happy news, isn’t it? I’m sure you must be ecstatic.”

Still Will didn’t answer, and Chilton was looking more annoyed by the minute, apparently still not accustomed to being ignored. The man’s ego was really going to be the death of him. He took a step closer to Will’s cell, stepping over the white line that signaled where visitors were supposed to stand. “Come on, you can tell me the truth,” he said, dropping his voice into a conspiratorial stage whisper. “I know you’re dreading it, you got sick when you heard the news. Talk to me about it.”

Will didn’t speak, didn’t even acknowledge him, and Chilton stepped back again, clearly irritated. “You have a visitor,” he said, voice back in a normal tone, and walked away, though strutted was a more appropriate term.

Finally, Will looked up, only to see the last person he wanted to see approaching his cell; Hannibal. Anger rose in his stomach, hot and sick and prepared to hurt, and he turned back to face the wall, something in his jaw tightening. Hannibal didn’t have a right to talk to him, Will didn’t owe him anything. In fact, Hannibal was the one who owed him, owed him everything that he’d taken from him and couldn’t give him back. He didn’t want to talk to him, didn’t want to see him, especially right now. God, especially right now.

“I heard the good news,” Hannibal said, and Will’s heart sunk, settling like a stone in his lower abdomen, heavy and nearly painful. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck— “And I came to ask you if you wanted to come home.”

Oh, so now he was asking his permission. He wouldn’t ask for consent before having sex with him, but he’d ask if Will wanted to come home instead of forcing him to. What a fucking asshole. Will didn’t answer him, still staring resolutely at the wall like it was the most fascinating thing in the world, and Hannibal sighed lightly.

“I would like to bring you home, Will. That way you can be comfortable during the pregnancy. It’s my job to take care of you during it, and it’s easiest to do that at home.”

“Your house isn’t a home to me,” Will spat out, speaking to Hannibal for the first time in weeks, and god did Hannibal look relieved at that. It reminded Will that he did have a certain power over Hannibal, that his actions produced certain results and if he acted just the right way, he could manipulate him. Unfortunately he couldn’t manipulate him into letting Will go.

“It is your home, even if you may not see it that way right now. And right now you should be home, with me. I know that this is a frightening experience for you, but I promise you that I will be there for you during the entire process. I need you home with me, Will,” Hannibal said, his voice careful, the closest to pleading Will had ever heard him. That, at least, was rewarding. Seeing Hannibal beg for him was very rewarding, made him feel marginally better about the situation at hand, because he could see how truly desperate he was to get Will to come home with him. Which meant Will had the power here.  
“No,” he said coldly, and turned to look at Hannibal for the first time in the conversation, blue eyes glittering with anger. “I don’t want to come home with you. I’d rather have the baby here.”

Hannibal seemed to have been expecting that answer, and honestly, he should have. Of course Will was going to be reluctant to come home, to go anywhere with the man who had raped and impregnated him, even though Hannibal didn’t seem to see it as rape.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Hannibal, you’re wasting your time with me. I’m not going to change my mind.”

Hannibal paused, then nodded, understanding, it seemed. “We’ll see if you change your mind,” he said, and Will laughed bitterly.

“You’ll be waiting forever if you think I’m going to change my mind. Clearly everyone you’ve sent to me hasn’t managed it yet,” he said, tone dryly amused. “And they won’t now. If I’m being forced to have this baby then I’ll do it in a cell. It’s better than doing it in your house, which is just a prettier version of this place. So leave me alone, Hannibal. I’m not interested.”

Hannibal didn’t speak for a minute, watching Will, and Will was sure to make eye contact with him, show him that he was absolutely serious about this. Then Hannibal nodded, taking a step back. “I will be by as often as I can to check on you,” he said, and Will snorted. “And if you change your mind at any time, you can tell me.”

“It’s never going to happen, so leave me be,” Will said, turning back to the wall, tuning Hannibal out. If he said anything else he wasn’t aware of it, and when he next turned away from the wall, he was gone. Thank god. It was bad enough having to deal with a pregnancy, and even worse when he had to deal with the father of his unborn child. He wanted nothing to do with Hannibal, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He had no rights as a married Omega, and honestly, Hannibal could pull him out of this place anytime he wanted to, and Will was sure at some point he’d get tired of waiting for Will to change his mind and just force him to come back with him so he could ‘experience pregnancy in the comfort of their home’. Their home. What a fucking joke. That house would never be a home to him, no matter what Hannibal did to dress it up for him. How could it be a home when he was expected to sleep in the very bed he’d been raped in? How could he be expected to spend his time with the very man who did it, raise a child with him? Oh god, he was feeling sick again.

He put a hand to his forehead, head spinning with everything that was going on, and he honestly thought he was going to throw up again. He stumbled over to the toilet but his stomach still had nothing to left to give up, and he ended up dry retching for a few minutes before giving up, slumping against the nearest wall. He wanted to return to the bed, wanted to try to sleep this off, but he couldn’t seem to find the energy, couldn’t manage doing much of anything right now. God he was weak. Wrecked so easily by two simple words; _you’re pregnant_. Jesus Christ.

“Relax, you’re not pregnant. At least, I don’t think you are.”

Will looked up from where he was leaning against the wall, seeing the brunette orderly from earlier outside of his cell lounging against the bars casually, his arms through them. “What?” he asked him, brow furrowing over azure eyes.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not pregnant. Chilton told us all you were, but I heard him talking to Dr. Lecter about it and I’m pretty sure they’re just telling you you are to make sure that you don’t hurt yourself again, knowing you’d feel too guilty about it,” the orderly said, tone nonchalant, almost casual. Like he wasn’t giving Will the most hopeful news in the world. “I’m betting they’re planning on getting you out of here and waiting for your next heat to actually get you pregnant.”  
“But if I’m pregnant, I wouldn’t have another heat,” Will said, confused.

“You can. There’s some residual effects during the first trimester especially, kind of like the spotting a lot of women experience during pregnancy. I think that’s what they’re waiting for. So they can actually get you pregnant. Well, so Hannibal can.”

Will simply looked at him for a minute, brow still furrowed, confusion in his blue eyes. “Why are you telling me this?” he finally asked, and the orderly smiled.

“My name is Matthew Brown, I’m with the Omega Civil Liberties Commission,” he answered. “We’re here to get you out of your marriage.”

“How do you even know about me?”

“Someone called in a tip and told us about your situation. So they sent me here to help.”

Will paused, the wheels still turning in his head at an excruciatingly slow pace. “You know, Chilton has this whole place wired.”

“Who do you think wired the mics?” Matthew asked, smile turning into a smirk. “And they’re currently unwired. Thought I should tell you about your pregnancy before you had another panic attack.”

“But you don’t know for sure that I’m not pregnant,” Will asked, and Matthew nodded.

“Unfortunately. But I can fix that.” He reached into his pocket, coming up with a little plastic cup with a screw top lid. “Get me a urine sample and I’ll know for sure.”

Will cautiously walked over to the bars, taking the cup from him. “Won’t Chilton see?”

“Who do you think controls the cameras? He just sits in his office and eavesdrops on people. I’ve got this, you worry about getting me a sample. Then we can find out if you’re really pregnant or not.”

The wave of relief that crashed into Will was nearly enough to make him stagger, and he instead slumped against the bars near Matthew. “Thank you,” he said weakly, and Matthew offered him a smile.

“I’m here to help,” he said, straightening up again and removing his arms from between the bars.

“Do you have a plan to get me out of here?”

“We’re working on that. We have a tentative plan, but we’re going to need your help,” he answered, and Will dipped his head in a nod.

“Whatever you need me to do,” he answered.

Matthew’s smile dropped. “For now, we need you to keep acting like you are pregnant, which shouldn’t be too hard since we don’t know for sure if you are. I’ll tell you when we’re going to put the plan in motion. Okay?”

Will nodded, quickly, and Matthew’s smile returned. “I’ll see you around, Mr. Graham. Take care of yourself. Eat something.” And with a smile and a wink he was gone again, leaving Will alone with his plastic cup, and the most hope he’d felt in a long time.


	9. A is for Acting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will returns home with Hannibal.

Will managed to get the sample out to Matthew in the next few days. He left the cup at one of the corners of his cell, right outside the door, able to reach outside the bars to put it there. Matthew came by and swooped it up, giving Will a wink as he went by, and Will went back to pacing his cell nervously, wondering how long it was going to take Matthew to get back to him. He needed to know _now_ whether or not he was really pregnant, whether this was just a ploy by Hannibal to get him to avoid trying to kill himself again or whether this was really happening. Whether he was going to have to try to force himself to carry a child to term, unless the Omega Civil Liberties Commission could help him to get an abortion. Even if they could, he wasn’t sure whether he’d be able to go through with it or not. He’d always been pro-choice, all for Omegas’ rights to decide what they did with their own bodies, but did that mean that he could go through with it himself? It was a big decision to make, and not an easy one.

But this all might be irrelevant, because it could be that he wasn’t pregnant at all. That he was freaking out for nothing,  that there really wasn’t a life growing inside of him and he was just still plain old Will, with nothing attached. Meaning Hannibal hadn’t been successful, and was going to attempt again during his next heat, which was unthinkable. Will had already been through this once, was he really going to have to do it again? Or would the OCLC manage to get him out of here before that, manage to rescue him from Hannibal and all of the horrors in store for him when he got home? Would Matthew help him? Could he even trust Matthew?

At this point, Will didn’t trust anyone in his life because they all seemed to somehow lead back to Hannibal. For all he knew, Matthew could be a plant from Hannibal designed to give him false hope, keep him complacent while he worked on a plan to get Will back on his side. Will only had Matthew’s word about where he was from and what he aimed to do, and it was hard to take him on faith about it. But he didn’t really have any other choice. He didn’t have an ally, didn’t have anyone else that he could rely on to help him, not even Beverly, who was the most sympathetic out of those close to him. So he had to believe that Matthew had his best interests at heart, and that he wouldn’t lie to him about the pregnancy test results.

God, the pregnancy test. Will found himself pacing his cell constantly, wondering how long it was going to take Matthew. Minutes, hours, days? How long did it take? Didn’t the results of a pregnancy test usually show up only a few minutes after you took it? So it was all a question of when Matthew did the test. He’d assume soon, while the sample was fresh, but he had no way of knowing. Besides, when would Matthew have time to do the test? He was busy still pretending to be an orderly, going about his daily business. So when would he have time for Will? Hopefully soon. God, he hoped it was soon, because he couldn’t stand the tension of not knowing. It was driving him insane.

He didn’t get any sleep that night, so he was up late when Matthew finally swung by, slipping a small piece of paper through the bars of his cell without stopping, whistling while he walked. Will quickly picked it up with trembling fingers, holding it in his palm for a second as he tried to take deep breaths, calm himself down, his heartbeat running away from him. After a few minutes of this, he opened the note, which only contained one word; ‘no’.

***

Hannibal was surprised to hear that Will had requested to see him, though surprised wasn’t quite a strong enough word. Shocked, perhaps. He had, of course, expected Will to fold at some point, need Hannibal again or at the very least want to go home, but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon. At least, that was what he assumed this meeting was about. Otherwise, why would Will call him here? Just to berate him? It seemed unlikely.

It was obvious as soon as he stepped into the room that Will was in a bad way. He looked bedraggled, worn out and like he hadn’t gotten any sleep for the past few nights, or perhaps the past few weeks. Hannibal’s heart instantly went out to him for that, knowing that if Will had been home with him he would have slept much better, fallen asleep and stayed asleep easily in Hannibal’s arms. He did partially regret his decision to have Will institutionalized, but at the same time, it’d been necessary. He’d needed to put him somewhere he could constantly be watched over, at least until they figured out a solution to stop him from hurting himself. And that solution had come in the form of telling him he was pregnant.

Of course, he wasn’t, but the lie seemed to have worked, and they only needed it to work until Will’s next heat, which would be soon. He could even smell it on him as he stepped up to the cage Will was in, the slight heated sweetness that came with his heat. It wasn’t in full force yet, but no doubt the other Alphas had picked up on it already, he could tell by the way the orderlies treated him as he came in. Jealousy was quite apparent, but Hannibal was secure in the knowledge that Will was already his mate, they were already bonded together, and nothing could tear them apart. He would make sure of that.

“Will,” he said in greeting, and Will’s eyes drifted up to him, something like relief flooding into them, and Hannibal’s chest tightened in a not unpleasant way. It was so wonderful, to see Will look at him like that, like he never had before, like Hannibal was the only thing that mattered in the world right now, his savior. And Hannibal certainly felt like a savior, ready and willing to rescue Will from this place and bring him back home. As long as that was what Will wanted.

“Hannibal,” Will said, and the relief was audible in his voice as he stood, moving closer to the front of the cage-like structure he was being held in. “I wasn’t sure you would come.”

“Of course I did. Frederick said that you were very distressed when you asked to see me.”

Will nodded, averting his eyes again, this time, it seemed, in shame, though there was no need for that. Asking for Hannibal’s help was nothing to be ashamed about, though he might have seen it that way. “I…I haven’t been feeling alright,” he said, and it sounded like a confession, something he didn’t want to admit to, was ashamed of.

“What’s wrong?” Hannibal asked, genuine concern in his voice. He didn’t want his mate to be in any kind of pain, any kind of distress. The bond between them had only made the instinct to protect Will stronger, even if he was protecting Will from himself. It certainly seemed that he had to.

“I—everything,” Will said, and laughed a little, though there was a fragile quality to it, like he was liable to break apart at any moment, and Hannibal nearly licked his lips, waiting for the moment that he knew was coming. He didn’t speak, just waiting, and a minute later was rewarded as Will’s face screwed up as he started to cry, reluctantly at first, then with larger, worse sobs that shook his body that already looked too frail, too thin. Like he hadn’t been eating. “I just want to go home,” he sobbed, rubbing a hand over his face as if trying to stop the tears that wouldn’t cease, and Hannibal’s whole heart melted at the sight.

He stepped closer, closer, closer, past the visitor safety line, so that he could come right up to where Will was being held, put his hand through the bars to cup his face with his hand, gently stroking his cheek. Will almost unconsciously nuzzled into the touch, crying softly against Hannibal’s hand in a way that made all of Hannibal’s protective instincts come out in full force, making it hard for him to remain rational when all he could think about was his mate being in pain, hurting, and that he had to fix that, now.

“Of course you can come home,” he said, and Will nearly melted against his hand, looking so relieved that something warm and pleased swept through his chest at the sight.

“Thank you, Hannibal. Thank you,” Will managed to get out between sobs, breaking down against Hannibal’s hand as Hannibal gently stroked his thumb over Will’s cheek, here to comfort Will throughout his breakdown. He was always here to help Will, no matter what it was that he needed. And right now it seemed like he just needed Hannibal.

***

“And this is the nursery.”

Hannibal stepped aside to let Will through, who stepped into the room, taking a look around as he absentmindedly rubbed his stomach with his hand, an action that Hannibal noted. So Will’s maternal instincts were kicking in, that was a good sign. He still thought that he was pregnant, and was apparently slowly adjusting to the idea. Which was crucial to Hannibal’s plan, if he was really going to get Will to raise a family with him. Which was exactly what he wanted.

The room that he’d led Will into was formerly a guest bedroom that was rarely used and that he’d always planned to turn into a nursery at some point. Will’s planned pregnancy had just given him the reason he needed to actually do it. Now it was painted a pale yellow, a gender neutral color that he’d always been partial to, and outfitted with a crib, changing table, and toy chest that was, of course, already full.

Will wandered over to the crib, reaching out and gently tapping the mobile hanging above the crib to set it in motion. He stood and watched it for a moment, still absentmindedly rubbing his stomach, before his hand dropped away and he turned to Hannibal. “Am I a horrible Omega for not wanting to have children?” he asked quietly.

“Not at all,” Hannibal said, taking a few steps closer to him, stopping beside him. He gently, carefully reached out, his fingertips brushing against Will’s shirt as he placed his hand on Will’s stomach, gently stroking it as he played the part of doting husband and soon to be father. After all, he _was_ going to be a father soon. Just because Will wasn’t currently carrying his child didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to at some point. Some point soon, actually. He was positive that the second heat would clinch it, that this time around Will really would get pregnant from him and they could have their child together. He was looking forward to it, though that wasn’t a strong enough term. He was incredibly ecstatic for it, ready for their bond to become solidified in something real, a child, no less. Then Will would have to stay with him, because he would bond with the child and feel obligated to take care of it. And then, eventually, he would come to love and care about Hannibal as well. Hannibal knew he would, it was only a matter of time.

But the child had to come first, and he gently stroked Will’s stomach like there really was a life growing inside of him, something dependent on him to live. There wasn’t, but there would be soon. “It doesn’t make you a bad Omega, it simply means that you’re different, special. But I believe that as this process goes along, you’ll begin to change your mind.”

Will looked down at Hannibal’s hand on his stomach, seeming to consider Hannibal’s words, and then, after a moment, placed his own hand over Hannibal’s, causing its motion to stop. Something pleasured and hot fluttered through Hannibal’s chest at the contact as Will linked their fingers together, almost experimentally, it seemed. Will really did seem to be changed by his time in the BSHCI, made meeker, quieter, gentler. He seemed resigned to his fate with Hannibal, prepared to start this new life with him even if he held hints of his former reluctance still.

“And what if I don’t? Are you going to lock me up again?” Will asked quietly, a heartbreaking fragility to his voice, a barely hidden fear.

Hannibal exhaled slowly, turning Will around to face him, who looked up at him with guarded sea blue eyes. “No, of course not,” he said, his hands on Will’s waist still. “I’m never sending you back there.”

Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s neck, pulling him down into a hug that was as unexpected as it was welcome. Hannibal gently wrapped his arms around Will in return, pulling him close as Will took a deep breath, no doubt scenting Hannibal in an effort to calm himself, though Hannibal doubted that it was a conscious action. That didn’t matter. What did matter was that he was doing it in the first place, signaling that he was getting deeper into the bond between them, settling into familiarity with Hannibal despite what had happened. This was incredibly important to the furthering of their relationship, and Hannibal’s chest felt nearly full to bursting with feelings for the delicate creature he currently held in his arms. Will was the most important thing in his life right now, and would remain that way. His upcoming pregnancy was vital, and Hannibal had to ensure that it actually happened. Chilton had helped him lay the foundation, now it was up to him to complete the task. And god was he looking forward to it.

“I will always care about you, Will. I want you to know that,” he said gently, and Will nodded against him.

“Okay,” he said, and Hannibal held him a little bit tighter, more than happy to have Will home. With him, where he belonged.

He was gone the next morning.


	10. A is for Abscond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will runs away with some help.

The plan was simple enough. Pretend to want to go home, act like he needed Hannibal and was having a mental breakdown without him there, locked away in that dark institution. Keep up the act when he went home, act like the good little pregnant Omega Hannibal wanted him to be. Insist on keeping separate beds for the first night back, stating that he wasn’t comfortable quite yet with sleeping in the same bed as Hannibal. Hannibal, understanding as always, would agree, and offer to sacrifice the master bedroom to him. Will would refuse, saying that he’d rather stay in the den, felt safer there, more at home. It would take some cajoling, but Hannibal would agree, only wanting to make his mate happy. Then, that night, Will would sneak out to a waiting car and get in.

When he got into the car on the passenger side, he found a blonde woman that looked vaguely familiar waiting for him, though she didn’t offer him any kind of greeting or smile, simply starting to drive.

“Where’s Matthew?” he asked, a touch confused.

“He can’t be near you right now considering how close to your next heat you are,” the woman answered, leather gloves moving on the steering wheel as she turned out of the driveway. “He was afraid of losing his self-control. My name is Bedelia Du Maurier. I’m the one who called in the tip about you.”

“You’re Hannibal’s therapist,” Will said, brow furrowed over his blue eyes, confusion present through the realization of who Bedelia was, recognizing the name. “Why would you call in a tip about me? Shouldn’t you be on his side?”

She didn’t answer for a minute, looking straight out the windshield as she drove, and Will thought she wasn’t going to answer at all. Finally, though, she said, “He told me what he did to you, the night that you mated, and I already knew about your repulsion towards sex. I realized the kind of trauma you had gone through, and…” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Having been through trauma of my own, I realized the effect it would have on you.” She cast a glance over at him, finding him still looking at her with traces of understanding in his expression now. “And then Hannibal decided to lock you up for a perfectly reasonable reaction to your situation, and I knew I couldn’t idly sit by and watch what he was doing to you. So I called the OCLC.”

Will nodded slowly, beginning to understand, though it was amazing to think that he had another ally, someone so close to Hannibal, nonetheless. Someone who actually had a legitimate chance of helping him, and was actively doing so now. Thank god he had an actual ally. And now he knew Matthew was good on his word, was actually helping Will like he’d promise he would, even if he couldn’t be here right this minute. That was fine.

“Here,” Bedelia said, handing over a bottle of pills, which turned out to be heat suppressants when he read the label. “They won’t stop your current heat but they will prevent any future ones.”

“Thank you,” Will said, beyond relieved to have a way to control his body again. He couldn’t stand the thought of having another heat, but he was just going to have to tough it out this once, and then he could go back to never having them again. Thankfully. “Where did you even get these, don’t you need a prescription?”

“I have a prescription, but I don’t need to use them,” Bedelia said, and Will wanted to ask what she meant by that but knew that he couldn’t, that it’d be rude and prying into personal information that she probably wouldn’t want to release. So he stayed silent, looking at the bottle in his hand as a silence settled over the car, Bedelia driving as Will distracted himself, needing something to do with his hands.

After a few minutes of this, Bedelia broke the silence, her voice hesitant, heavy. Loaded with meaning in each word and ready to fire at Will, who wasn’t sure he was ready to catch the bullets. “Hannibal is…obsessed with you,” she said carefully, treading lightly, like she was afraid of hurting Will or scaring him with her words. “He believes that it’s love, but I disagree. He views you as a possession, something that belongs to him, and thinks that he can change your mind about him with enough time. He’s not going to give up on looking for you, he’ll do everything he can to hunt you down, and Jack Crawford will help him because he’s on Hannibal’s side. I can’t promise that you’ll be safe after this.”

Will nodded, looking down at his hands as he considered her words, knowing the truth behind them. Hannibal was insane, convinced that Will simply needed time and repeated exposure to him to make him love him back, and nothing was going to change his mind about that. He was in complete denial, 100% sure that Will would eventually come around despite the fact that Will just ran away in the middle of the night. He would search for Will desperately, using all of the resources available to him to track him down. Will wasn’t sure where he would be safe, if there was a place that he’d be safe at all. He really didn’t know if he was going to be able to get away from Hannibal once and for all.

“I know,” he said after a minute, picking at the label on the bottle with his nail. “He’s not going to stop until he finds me and brings me back ‘home’.” He took a deep breath, already imagining how that would go, how angry Hannibal would be that he ran away. No, not angry; _betrayed_. He’d be hurt by Will playing along with him and then up and running away, and Will didn’t know what he’d do then. Jesus, would Will actually be in danger from him? No, Hannibal would never hurt him. They were bonded now, that meant that all Hannibal wanted to do was protect him, care for him, raise a family with him. He’d never harm Will, not intentionally. At least, Will didn’t think he would. Bedelia, on the other hand…  
“Aren’t you worried that he’ll find out that you helped me?” he asked, glancing over at her, though his eyes slid away as soon as hers brushed against him. “He’s dangerous. You of all people should know that by now, considering you get to peek inside his psyche.”

Bedelia took a deep breath, releasing it in a slow, even exhale. “I’ve made my peace with what might happen with Hannibal,” she said calmly. “I’m ready for him to do his worst.”

“But he could kill you.” Hannibal had never shown any murderous tendencies, but somehow Will knew that he was capable of it, especially where Will was concerned. He knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that Hannibal would do anything and everything to get him back, and that could easily include hurting anyone who got in his way or helped Will in his escape. And as much as Will wanted to escape, he didn’t want anyone getting injured or killed because of him.

“He won’t kill me,” Bedelia said, and sounded remarkably sure of herself, though confident wasn’t how Will would describe it. She just sounded like she was stating a fact. “He needs me too much for that, and he’ll attempt to manipulate me to find out where you are. But by the time he gets around to questioning me, I won’t know where you are. Matthew will have taken over.”

“It certainly sounds thought out,” Will murmured, though well thought out didn’t necessarily mean successful. The initial rush of endorphins that came with escaping was wearing off, leaving him with a heavy anxiety, a weight in his stomach that he couldn’t lessen no matter what he told himself. He knew Hannibal was dangerous, had playing him like this really been the best idea? It would probably only serve to make Hannibal angrier, giving him the illusion of having everything he wanted before taking it all away in one fell swoop. He’d truly believed that Will needed him, that Will bought the pregnancy and was getting resigned to the idea of carrying a child for Hannibal, because that was what he wanted to believe. He hadn’t looked closely enough, seen the hints of deception around Will’s acting, because he was too concerned with finally getting what he wanted. And it’d come back to bite him in the ass, as evidenced by where Will was currently, sitting in a car with Hannibal’s therapist who was driving him to some unknown location to keep him safe in the middle of the night.

“I don’t know what Matthew’s plan is, nor do I want to know. The less I know about it, the better. But my part, at the very least, is well thought out, and will hopefully keep you safe. I only need to buy you a few days to get over your heat, then Matthew will be along to get you and you’ll move again. After that, you won’t see me again unless something goes terribly wrong.”

Right, because if he saw Bedelia again, it meant that Hannibal had somehow managed to drag him back, kicking and screaming, and he would be trapped again under Hannibal’s ‘care’. So it was best that he didn’t see Bedelia again, as relieved as he was that he had an ally. Oh, the wedding! That was where he’d seen her before, and been briefly introduced but he’d been too surly to bother trying to remember names or faces. If he’d known that she was going to be one of the few people actually making sense in his life, he would have paid more attention at the time. Instead, he was getting the fun surprise of getting her as an ally now, unexpectedly, and he was glad for it. Unbelievably so, actually.

It was a while before they pulled up in front of a rather expansive house, Bedelia parking and shutting off the car. “I just have to get the things Matthew packed for you and then we can get on the road,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt.

“Can I use your bathroom first?” Will asked, and she nodded, stepping out of the car. He got out as well, following her into the house.

A few minutes was all it took for them to be ready, and then they were back in the car, driving to some unknown location. Will tried to keep track of where they were but failed, ending up falling asleep in the passenger seat, lulled by the steady motion of the car and exhausted by his past few nights of restless, empty sleep. When Bedelia woke him up, the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, and they were parked in front of a small house in some undisclosed location, though Will didn’t really care where they were. He only cared that he was away from Hannibal.

“This is it,” Bedelia said, looking at the house before turning her eyes back to Will, who avoided them on instinct. “There’s food and supplies inside, as well as a cellphone with Matthew’s number in it. As soon as your heat is over, text him. If you need anything before your heat is over, my number is there as well, but I can’t promise I’ll be able to come. Hannibal will probably be keeping an eye on me after this. He has a tendency not to trust those closest to him.”

“I’m sure that’s something you like to discuss in therapy,” Will said dryly, and a smile touched her lips, just for a moment before it was gone again.

“We discuss many things in therapy. But most recently, we’ve generally been discussing you.”

That caused a sick little twist to his stomach, a reminder, once again, of how attached Hannibal was to him. How he seemed to care only about Will, about their future together and nothing else. It was honestly frightening, that he was so hell bent on having his way, on getting Will pregnant and forcing him to start a life with him. And that was a horrifying future for Will, one that he couldn’t be a part of, not even with all the cajoling and gentle, loving treatment in the world from his spouse. Hannibal would have made a lovely spouse for someone else with his doting nature, aside from the whole crazy obsessive and possessive behavior and forced marriage thing. Otherwise, with his impeccable manners, affluent lifestyle, and abundance of affection, he would make a great spouse. Just not for Will. But he seemed to have latched onto Will for some reason, grown attached to him until he thought that he was completely and utterly in love with him when obsessed was a better term. And it didn’t seem like he was letting go anytime soon.

“Thank you,” Will said quietly, and Bedelia looked over at him. “For everything.”

“Good luck,” was all she said, and Will nodded, once, before getting out of the car. He grabbed the bags from the back, accepted the key from Bedelia, and walked up to the door of the house, taking a deep breath. Okay. He could do this. He would be alright, he just had to get through this heat by himself and then he would have Matthew’s help again, and everything would work out fine. He could manage to get away from Hannibal. Right?

***

Hannibal knew as soon as he entered the house. It was faint, but it was there; the lingering scent of an Omega in heat, in this case an Omega that he knew well. It was Will’s scent, he was sure of it; sweet, sultry, and slightly smoky around the edges. Will was going into heat, soon, and he had been here recently, within the past few days. Considering he had only disappeared two days ago and Hannibal had never taken him here, that meant that sometime when he was gone, he had come here. Oh no. It seemed that Bedelia had been keeping a few secrets from him.   
He stepped through the room their sessions were held in to the kitchen, where Bedelia was pouring out wine, dressed today in red, the color of passion, desire. The object of Hannibal’s desire had been taken from him, and now it seemed that someone he had trusted, someone close to him, had betrayed him. Of course. Given Bedelia’s own troubled history, he should have guessed that she would take Will’s side in all of this, given him the sympathy that she thought he deserved, that everybody else seemed to deny him. He should have expected a betrayal, honestly, but he had thought that Bedelia was smarter than that. After all, she knew Hannibal better than anyone. Which meant she knew what he was capable of.  
“I didn’t think I would be seeing you so soon,” Bedelia said as she poured out a second glass, oblivious to Hannibal’s realization. “But you said it was an emergency on the phone.”

“It is. Will is missing,” Hannibal said, calmly walking into the kitchen and stopping at the island counter.

Bedelia looked up at him at that, and bless her heart, she actually looked surprised. Then again, she’d always been a good actress. “Missing?” she asked, and Hannibal nodded.

“I’m afraid so,” he said, taking one of the wine glasses in his hand. He swirled it for a moment, sniffing before he took a sip. An excellent vintage, of course. Bedelia had exemplary taste. “He went missing two days ago, the morning after I brought him home from the BSHCI. I haven’t seen him since the night before.”

Bedelia didn’t speak for a minute, sipping her wine, and Hannibal watched her carefully, maroon eyes bright as he looked at her, waiting for a slip, something in her behavior to be off, a giveaway. He would find out about it somehow. “Do you believe he was taken or that he ran off himself?” she finally asked, and Hannibal pulled his glass away from his lips.

“I believe that he had help in running away. While I would prefer to believe that he was taken against his will, I know that it’s far more likely that he ran away.”

“At least you recognize that that’s the more likely possibility. The sooner you accept it, the sooner you’ll be able to look for a solution to the root problem; why he ran away.”

“I know why he ran away, I’m not concerned with that,” Hannibal said, setting his glass back down on the counter. “I’m more concerned with who helped him.”

And ah, there it was, the tell. A slight shift in Bedelia’s eyes as the suspicion entered her brain that Hannibal knew, that somehow he had connected her to it. She always had been so smart. Just not smart enough, it seemed.

“The only way to find out is to track him down,” she said smoothly, not even a hitch in her tone. Such a good liar.

Hannibal tilted his head slightly, watching her, and yes, now she knew that he had figured it out. His silence told her everything she needed to know, and the quiet between them was suddenly heavy, nearly suffocating in its intensity. The air nearly crackled with the tension between them, and Hannibal slid around the corner of the counter, towards Bedelia, who instantly took a step back, heels clicking lightly against the tile of the floor.

“There are other ways to find out,” he said, taking another step towards her, and she stepped back on instinct, though there wasn’t much space for her to move anymore. “If I perhaps found one of his confidantes, I could obtain information from them.”

He took a final step forward and that was it, she was completely backed against the counter, Hannibal in front of her, blocking all of her exits. “I’m afraid you’ve been very bad, Bedelia,” he said, a soft sigh of regret in his voice. “What’s to be done about that?”


	11. A is for Alacrity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will receives an unexpected guest.

He hated his heats. Every single thing about them, from the sticky wetness as his body produced lubrication to the way his body heated up beyond belief, leaving him flushed and panting, unable to stop himself or control his body anymore. He was aroused but still didn’t feel any actual desire to mate, just the need to get off somehow, any way that he could. Hannibal had taken advantage of that before, had turned his body against him, and Will hated that that was possible in the first place, that his body could be used against him like that.  He hated being a slave to his biology, and wished more than anything that he’d been born an Alpha, or even a Beta. A Beta probably would have been better, honestly, so that the expectations for him would have been lower, and perhaps his asexuality would have been a little bit more accepted. He would have never been raped, never tried to kill himself, and now wouldn’t be on the run from his psychotic husband from a forced marriage. But he couldn’t help his gender. It’d been chosen for him, and now he had to deal with the consequences.

The consequences being that he was paranoid all the time, alone in this tiny little house with no one to help him feel safe. It was like being a child again, jumping at every shadow and fearing every creak as the house settled. He was petrified of turning a corner and finding Hannibal just sitting there, waiting for him with an expectant expression like he’d known all along that he was going to get Will back and it’d only been a matter of time.

But that wasn’t going to happen, right? Bedelia hadn’t made any promises as to Will’s safety, but she had said that Matthew would be along soon to help him, as soon as his heat was over and it was safe for Matthew to be near him. Matthew would keep him safe. The Alpha was dark, intense, completely focused on saving Will, completing his mission, and Will was sure that he would do everything in his power to keep Will safe from Hannibal. But for now, Will was on his own, suffering through his heat and twisting and turning against the bedsheets as he tried to ride it out, uncomfortable at every turn and hating his own damn biology. But still incredibly thankful that he wasn’t really pregnant.

It didn’t help that it was hot outside as well, the summer heat getting to him as he rolled over and over, trying to get comfortable somehow when everything just felt sweltering and sticky. This wasn’t what he wanted. This wasn’t what he needed in his life, right now, but then again, he didn’t have much choice. His entire life had gone to hell the second he met Hannibal Lecter when he was fifteen years old. He still wasn’t sure why Hannibal had chosen him when there must have been much better candidates out there, Omegas who would have been much better suited to him. Who wouldn’t put up such an incredible fight, would roll over and play House with Hannibal all he liked. So why the fuck had he chosen Will?  
It wasn’t like Will was being down on himself, either; he knew that he was attractive, had been even as a teenager, and had many good qualities, including the empathy that people seemed to find fascinating, but still. He didn’t understand why Hannibal would have chosen him when Hannibal was so completely different. He was refined, cultured, experienced in the world and in a class of his own. Will was scruffy, unshaven and down to earth, having seen far too much in his life despite being so young. Did Hannibal simply like him because they were so different? Did he like the challenge that Will presented by fighting against their marriage so hard? Had he simply fallen in love with Will at first sight or something?

The simple truth was that Will didn’t know. All he knew was that Hannibal was attached to him now, believing that he truly did love him and wanted his safe return, though Will was never safe around Hannibal. Not after what he’d done. Not when Hannibal was still hell-bent on getting Will pregnant and starting a family with him despite the fact that Will was completely dead-set against it and would rather kill Hannibal than start a family with him. Hannibal didn’t seem to understand that, or was just in complete denial about it, and would remain that way, Will was sure. There was no way out of this situation but to run, and so he had. And now he just had to stay here, stay safe, get through his heat before contacting Matthew. That was easier said than done.

He had been there for less than 24 hours, the night after Bedelia dropped him off finding him wrapped up in the sheets, twisting and turning as he tried to get comfortable despite burning up and feeling achingly unfulfilled. That was another thing he hated; the aching empty feeling that accompanied his heat, as if he needed to be filled with some Alpha’s cock and wouldn’t be satisfied until it happened. That was bullshit. He didn’t need an Alpha to fulfill him, didn’t need anyone but himself. He didn’t need to be looked after, stroked and praised and told he was a good boy for pleasing his Alpha. He definitely didn’t fucking need that in his life, as much as he was sure Hannibal would enjoy it. That fucker.

He was panting loudly in the stillness of the house, but not loudly enough to cover up the noise as the downstairs door quietly opened and shut again with a soft snik. His breathing stopped instantly, breath held as he listened carefully, waiting for whatever was next. Maybe he’d imagined it in his overwhelming paranoia, not helped by the incredible amount of hormones currently pumping through his system. It made everything feel heightened, from the texture of the sheets underneath his fingertips to the sound of his heartbeat in his ears, the thudding of his pulse in his palms. But he wasn’t mistaken. There, just faintly, was the sound of someone on the stairs, the creak of the floorboard directly outside of his room. He sat up instantly, heart pounding because Jesus Christ, that could be anyone. And considering he hadn’t called Matthew here yet, most likely it was…no. No, it couldn’t be.

The door creaked open, slowly, slowly, slowly, and he held his breath as he waited. But the head that poked through made him let out a sigh of relief, though he was still tensed. Because Matthew was here, and Matthew wasn’t supposed to be here during his heat. He was wearing some sort of mask that covered the lower half of his face, and his eyes were bright, that same sort of dark intensity in them that Will found was just the other man’s usual affectation.

Will opened his mouth to speak, ask what Matthew was doing here, but he was prevented by a brisk, “Bedelia’s been compromised, we need to get you out of here,” as Matthew fully entered the room, heading to pick up Will’s bags. His voice was muffled through the mask, and Will had a hard time understanding him for a moment before the words went through and he nearly paled.

“What do you mean, Bedelia’s been compromised?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice, genuine, because Bedelia was one of the only allies he had and she didn’t deserve to fall to Hannibal. She’d known the risk she was taking, but that didn’t mean that she deserved the consequences. No, she definitely didn’t deserve those.

“She’s missing. Which probably means that either Hannibal got to her, or she had to go into hiding to protect herself from him,” Matthew said, starting down the stairs again, and Will quickly followed, grabbing the last bag. There was a running car waiting outside, and Matthew hurriedly put the bags in the back, waiting for Will to put his in before shutting the truck and quickly moving to the driver’s seat. Everything was done with alacrity, paying no mind to Will and where he was, though Matthew’s complete attention should have been on him at all times, considering Will was an Omega smack dab in the middle of his heat and Matthew was an unbonded Alpha. Instead, his eyes seemed to slide right past Will every time he looked towards him, his attention focused on getting them out.

Will opened the door to the passenger seat, about to get in when Matthew stopped him with, “I’d prefer it if you sat in the back. That way your scent is at least a little farther away.” So he was affected by the scent. Or was he? It was so hard to tell, but Will obediently closed the door and got into the back, buckling himself in as Matthew sped out of the driveway, clearly intent on getting them onto the road as soon as possible. The car was silent for a few minutes, heavy with the reminder of Bedelia and the danger she could be in, before Will broke the silence.

“How can you be around me right now?” he asked, the most pressing question on his mind aside from where Bedelia was, but Matthew couldn’t answer that question for him.

Matthew gently tapped the mask over the lower half of his face, covering his mouth and nose. “Pheromone mask. Prevents most of your scent from getting through, at least enough of it that I can stay sane. But it’s not going to last forever, so we have to get you to the next safehouse _now_.”

“That’s something that exists?” Will asked, surprised. “So if Hannibal had had one, he would have never…” He let that sentence trail off, not really able to finish the thought because he still couldn’t really deal with that night and what had happened to him. No, not what had happened, what Hannibal had done. Saying ‘what had happened’ made it sound like it was a spontaneous event, not a conscious decision on Hannibal’s part, and that excused his behavior. And he refused to forgive him for what he’d done, no matter how many pretty apologies Hannibal made. His actions could never be excused, or justified, or forgiven. He’d taken something that Will could never get back, ripped him apart and done it all on purpose. There was no forgiveness left for him.

Matthew shook his head, glancing at Will in the rearview mirror. “He would have done what he did no matter what. He’s determined to get you pregnant, and besides that, he’s been attracted to you from the beginning. Nothing was going to stop him from trying to bond with you,” he said, voice firm, brooking no argument from Will.

“You mean successfully bonding with me,” he mumbled, looking down at his fingers as he played with them, twisting them together. There was always that reminder in the back of his mind, the now healed bonding bite that always reminded him of who he supposedly belonged to. Hannibal had bitten him violently enough to leave a scar, like he’d been trying to take a bite out of Will. More likely it’d been because the whole act had been violent, in a strangely loving way. It’d been an odd juxtaposition, the care that Hannibal had taken for him while at the same time using force on him to get what he wanted. Loving violence. Wasn’t that a sign of an abusive relationship? Shouldn’t everyone else, not just Bedelia and Matthew, have seen that?

“Well…”

Will was drawn back out of his thoughts by the one word from Matthew, brow furrowing over sea blue eyes. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, the word seeming out of place considering the subject matter. Matthew almost sounded…skeptical.

He didn’t answer for a minute, focused on the road and the drive to wherever it was they were going, before finally opening his mouth to speak. “I’m not sure about the bond between you and Hannibal. It doesn’t seem quite…normal.”

“What makes you say that?”

Matthew took a deep breath, seeming to consider his words carefully as his eyes narrowed slightly. They opened fully again as he said, “Hannibal certainly seems to have bonded with you. He’s addicted to your scent, he’s only concerned with your happiness and safety, and he desperately wants to start a family with you. But you…” He paused, shaking his head. “You keep going on like nothing’s changed at all. You’re not automatically comforted by his scent, you shy away from him, in fact, and you have no sudden desire to be with him. It’s like a one-sided bond.”

“Is that even possible?” Will asked, leaning forward into the gap between the two front seats, and Matthew instantly tensed. “Sorry,” Will said, pulling away again and leaning back in his seat so his scent would be a little farther away from Matthew, however much that counted for.

“I don’t know. I didn’t think an asexual Omega was possible, but according to Bedelia, that’s what you are. And since you’re asexual and were forced into the bond, I don’t know how it’d change the dynamics of the bond. Maybe you’re not even capable of having one.”

Not capable of having a bond. God, that was an idea, wasn’t it? That meant that he was free, in a way, to go about his business as he pleased without having to worry about being forced to bond with some Alpha like everyone wanted. That would mean that Hannibal’s attack had accomplished nothing, and Will was still free of the influence of the chemicals in his brain, the pheromones that Hannibal released that should have appealed to him when really, they repelled him. He hadn’t really stopped to consider it, but what Matthew was saying was true, wasn’t it? He hadn’t felt any different since he and Hannibal had ‘bonded’, had even felt more repulsed by Hannibal than usual because of what he’d done. So what did that mean? Was he really immune to the bond between them?

If so, that was the luckiest break he’d caught in quite a while. Because that meant that Hannibal couldn’t use it against him, couldn’t appeal to him simply by showing up and pumping pheromones into the air. He was on his own in trying to appeal to Will, and that wasn’t going to work. Will was so angry with him that it nearly made him shake, and that wasn’t about to change anytime soon. Or ever.

He settled back against the backseat, huffing a sigh as he thought about it. About Hannibal pursuing him, using poor Bedelia as his guide to the house he’d just deserted. Hopefully even if he did find that house, he wouldn’t be able to use it to trace it back to Will. He’d catch his scent, yes, especially because he was in heat, but hopefully that was as far as the trail would go. The only place that it would go. Matthew certainly seemed determined to protect him, and Will had to wonder how much of that was duty and how much of that was…something else. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, even with his empathy. Matthew was too duplicitous for him to properly read, something hidden in plain sight in those dark eyes of his. He couldn’t tell what it was, exactly, but he had a feeling he would eventually find out.

For now, though, they drove in silence through the black night, Will drowning in sweat in the backseat while Matthew drove like a man possessed, clearly ready to get somewhere, anywhere where they would be safe, where he could leave Will and protect them both by separating himself from Will’s scent. The farther they drove, the more it seemed that Will’s scent was getting to him, Matthew getting tenser and tenser, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly enough that his knuckles turned white from the force, and Will shrank as much as he could in the backseat in order to protect himself. He knew what happened when Alphas lost control, and he couldn’t go through that. Not again.

***

By the time Hannibal arrived, it was too late. Will was gone, leaving behind only a lingering scent, a hot sweetness like fresh-brewed sugary tea. And there, another scent to accompany it; an unbonded Alpha, something that smelled slightly familiar, actually, though Hannibal couldn’t place where he’d smelled it before. But he’d definitely found it somewhere before, he just wasn’t sure where.

But the main point was, Will wasn’t here. He was already gone, only by an hour or two, though, judging by the scent and how fresh it was. Hannibal tsked softly, pulling out his phone to place a call as he stood in place, breathing in the intoxicating scent of _his_ Omega in heat. He missed Will’s scent, and now that he’d found it again, he couldn’t get enough of it, taking deep, nearly gulping breaths in order to reassure himself that Will was still fine, healthy. Unbonded.

Because he would have been able to tell if the Alpha bonded with Will, or tried to, considering Will was already bonded. No, they hadn’t had any type of sex, the air still smelled clear of that, and that was incredibly relieving. He didn’t know what he’d do if another Alpha tried to take his Omega. Kill them, certainly, but how was the question. Slowly. Painfully. With his bare hands.

“Hello?” A sleepy, familiar voice answered the phone, the late hour forgotten by Hannibal considering how focused he was on getting Will back.

“Jack, it’s Hannibal,” he said, his voice firm, brisk, just a touch of Alpha in it to get Jack to listen up and pay attention despite his sleepy state. “I need your help.”


	12. A is for Advance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search for Will continues.

_“Hold still, Will.”_

_No, he didn’t want to hold still, he wanted to run, get as far away as possible, take off and never come back. He didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be as vulnerable as he was. Too vulnerable, too open, exposed, in the middle of his heat, struck by it too early in Hannibal’s office. With Hannibal._

_He was backed against the wall, Hannibal across the room but slowly advancing, one careful step at a time. As if he was afraid of scaring Will away, which was likely. Will was a rabbit ready to bolt, heartbeat pounding in his chest as he waited for Hannibal to advance, his harsh breathing the only sound in the otherwise silent room. Until Hannibal broke that silence._

_“I promise you, I won’t hurt you,” he said, and Will would have snorted if he wasn’t so panicked. So frightened, like prey cornered by a predator. And Hannibal was the best kind of predator, wasn’t he?_

_“You intend to do nothing but hurt me,” Will answered, feeling the spines of the books behind him with his hands, palms pressed flat against them. There was something soothing in feeling leather and cloth underneath his fingertips, the bindings cool against his heated skin. Books were familiar, safe, couldn’t hurt him the way the Alpha across the room, couldn’t tear him apart and put him back together again in a more pleasing shape. What was Hannibal’s idea of a pleasing shape? He’d said before that he didn’t want the typical Alpha-Omega relationship, and yet he’d tried to turn Will into more of a typical Omega, one that wanted a family and to carry children and please their Alpha. Will had never been cut out for that, Hannibal should have realized that from the start. But apparently he’d been in denial since the beginning, had thought that he could change Will to suit his own purposes. And if that involved tearing Will apart? Well, it was a shame, but it had to be done._

_“I would never hurt you. I care about you more than anything.”_

_A lie, and the truth. Hannibal always seemed to speak in double-edged sentences, bending the truth as he needed to his will. Bending everyone as he needed to his will, turning those closest to Will against him because they all wanted to see him settled down happily in a marriage with the Alpha with a few kids, maybe more. But that would never happen._

_“That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t hurt me, Dr. Lecter,” Will said, his voice just a touch bitter. “Quite the opposite, in fact. Abusers always know their victims.”_

_Hannibal took another slow step forward and Will tensed against the bookshelf, getting more and more anxious and panicked with each step the doctor took. “Do you consider me to be your abuser, Will?”_

_“Yes, I would say you are. How else would you classify yourself?”_

_“As your husband. Your caretaker, your confidante, your lover. The father of your children.”_

_Either he was going insane, or he distantly heard the laughter of children, almost as if punctuating Hannibal’s sentence while simultaneously mocking him, but as much as he wanted to take a look around, he kept his eyes on Hannibal, not trusting him for a moment. He’d probably close the rest of the distance if Will looked away for even a second. And when that happened…no. God no. Not again._

_“You will never be the father of my children. I’d rather die.”_

_“Yes, you’ve made your position quite clear. But I’m afraid that you don’t have much of a choice in the matter,” Hannibal said, and took another step forward, somehow managing to close the rest of the distance between them. But that was the logic of dreaming, he supposed._

_Dreaming, oh god, he was dreaming, that was right, he could get out of this, everything made sense now. He could escape, he just had to wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up—_

Will opened his eyes, panting, as he came out of the dream, just at the moment when Hannibal was leaning in for a kiss, his intentions clear in those dark eyes. He looked around the room wildly, eyes darting about like frightened birds as he took in every detail, making sure he was safe, and found Matthew asleep in the chair by the bed, chest gently rising and falling with every breath. He must have come while Will was asleep, Will having texted him the moment that his heat was over and he was sure it was over, rather than just abated. Matthew had promised he was on his way, and now here he was, clearly keeping—or trying to keep—watch over Will while he slept. Will appreciated the effort, at least, knowing that Matthew’s Alpha senses were keen enough that he would wake up if something went wrong.

And it seemed that he was awake, actually, as Will saw the glitter of light reflecting off dark eyes as Matthew opened them, looking directly at Will in a way that was mildly intimidating. Will still didn’t know Matthew very well, didn’t know much about him at all, aside from that he was supposed to be on the side of the good guys. Supposed to be. Will still didn’t know if he entirely trusted him, but he didn’t have much of a choice, did he?

“You alright, Mr. Graham?” Matthew asked in that low voice of his, almost insidious in his tone. Like it could easily crawl inside someone’s head and set up shop there. It was interesting, how the lisp he’d sported while still an orderly had entirely disappeared, gone with the act, Will supposed. Underneath the voice, his voice was a near drawl, as he meandered through well-chosen words, always articulate when he spoke more than a sentence or two. But those occasions were rare.

“I’m…fine,” Will answered, though he was pouring buckets of sweat, worse than even when he was in his heat, and he couldn’t stop shaking. Goddamn Hannibal. “Just a bad dream.”

“Hannibal?”

Matthew was just a tad bit more perceptive than Will would have liked, but then again that wasn’t a hard guess to make. Who else would be the subject of his nightmares, aside from his crazy, psychopathic husband who was on his trail this very instant? Will had to wonder if Hannibal had already found the first safe house, and if Bedelia had given him up of her own volition or under his coercion. And where she was now, if Hannibal had gotten to her and punished her for her sins, or if she’d managed to escape, run off to somewhere safe from him and his manipulative ways. He hoped it was the latter, but who really knew. Only Hannibal did, and it wasn’t like Will was about to get an opportunity to ask him. Hopefully not, at least.

Will nodded, casting his eyes over Matthew’s form in the darkness of the room, the silhouette he cut in the chair. Matthew leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, suddenly closer to Will, who moved back just a touch, still uncomfortable with such a close proximity with another human being. After Hannibal, he’d been particularly sensitive to that, to maintaining his personal space and keeping it as _his._ So though he knew Matthew meant no harm, he still shrank back a bit on the bed, Matthew’s dark eyes seeming to catch the motion.

He didn’t move, though, staying in his new position as he said, “You know, I heard sleeping in the same bed with someone else helps with that.”

Will snorted. “You and Hannibal have been reading the same magazines, it seems. If you don’t want to sleep in the chair, you can just tell me, Mr. Brown. You don’t have to suffer for me.”

“Please, call me Matthew.”

“Matthew, then. You can sleep in the bed with me, if you want. Just try not to touch me,” Will said, his one caveat because he still wasn’t sure how he’d handle that kind of contact with another human being. And it wasn’t like he didn’t like Matthew, Matthew seemed just fine, he seemed nice, actually, but he still didn’t entirely trust him, and felt especially vulnerable considering his heat had just ended and he’d barely started on the suppressants. So it was better that they stay farther apart.

“Okay,” Matthew said, voice soft, and he rose from his chair smoothly, with an ease usually reserved for Alphas secure in their own power. Matthew certainly seemed to not have an issue with that part of himself; unlike Will, he fit his gender and his gender fit him. Will had to envy him for that. He slid into the bed on the opposite side as Will, Will turning away to face the door rather than Matthew, listening as Matthew got settled on the bed.

By morning, they were completely wrapped around each other.

***

“Do you have any news about Will?”

“Getting right to the point, aren’t we, Hannibal?” Jack asked with a light chuckle as Hannibal placed his plate down in front of him before moving to place Bella’s down in front of her. He sat at the head of the table with his own plate, turning expectantly to Jack, who was sharing a ‘be nice’ look with Bella, his wife expressing her mild displeasure at his response to Hannibal’s words.

“Ah, we already processed the house to see if there was any indication of where he was going next, but no such luck. He didn’t leave behind anything when he left, aside from the scent that you already caught, and that scent from the other Alpha. We’re still not sure who was with him, but we’re checking security camera footage from all of the gas stations along the highway to see if they stopped at any of them. But that’s going to take us quite a while, and we’re working with a small team,” Jack said, looking to Hannibal, tone mild, showing deference for the Alpha. Of course, because he’d had Jack wrapped around his finger from the very beginning, and Jack didn’t seem to know it. Or did, and had simply accepted his fate.

The other Alpha was really what concerned him. He didn’t like the thought of anyone at all being close to _his_ Will, would have locked him away from everyone if he could have, but he especially didn’t like another Alpha being close to Will. Another Alpha could always try to bond with him, a process that had mixed results depending on the Alphas and Omega involved. While Hannibal believed that their bond was strong, ironclad, Will had still managed to slip away when he should have stopped at the front door, feeling too guilty to leave his Alpha. But he’d not only managed to leave, he’d managed to head completely out of state, the original safe house far away from Hannibal’s home in Maryland. He shouldn’t have been able to make it that far, even with an Alpha and, regrettably, Bedelia helping him.

It was something that no one would mention, the elephant in the room that no one dared bring up because they feared Hannibal’s reaction. No one would dare to say that the bond between him and Will was anything but the strongest it could be, forged of iron and steel. They would never, ever imply—at least not to Hannibal—that perhaps the bond that they had formed was lesser than Hannibal thought it was, or was merely stronger on his side, if that was even possible. Because that would imply that not only did his husband not love him as he was supposed to, it also meant that the Alpha that was with him could more easily bond with Will, if he chose. And the million dollar question was whether he was going to choose to, whether or not Will was a willing participant not really mattering in this equation. After all, Hannibal knew very well just how mad an Omega in heat could drive an Alpha.

But the other question, equally as pressing, was where he had scented that Alpha before. Because it’d been so obvious when he was there, so familiar, and he couldn’t yet place where it was from, though he should have been able to. He had a good memory, and a better nose, so it should have been easy for him to identify where it came from, and yet…and yet he was finding it impossible, the scent nagging at the back of his mind, his memory allowing him to call it up when needed but not allowing him to connect it to a face.

“I’m sorry that we haven’t made more progress, honestly, but I’m afraid our resources are limited, Dr. Lecter.”

Hannibal brought himself out of the state of contemplation he’d slipped into, absorbed in thoughts of Will and the mysterious Alpha. “Of course, I understand,” he said, offering Jack a small, reassuring smile, seeing the man’s anxiety with the situation and delivering the bad news. “There is only so much the FBI can do at this moment in time. Hopefully you will be able to catch something on those security cameras. I have full faith in the FBI’s abilities to eventually return my husband to me.”

“And until then, we’re more than happy to keep you company,” Bella said, giving him a soft smile, meant to be reassuring, he was sure, but he didn’t want reassurance. He wanted Will back home, back in his arms, back where he belonged. And he would do anything to get him there.

“Oh, excuse me, this is Beverly,” Jack said as his phone began ringing, and stepped out of the room to answer it, Hannibal watching him leave.

“I suppose it’s polite to wait for him, but it’s hard to when the food looks this good,” Bella said, smiling at Hannibal again, and Hannibal smiled back, genuinely pleased, _always_ pleased when his food was being complimented.

“I appreciate the compliment, and considering Jack has already been slightly rude, I encourage you to be as well. Please, enjoy it,” he answered, and Bella shook her head with a slight chuckle.

“I appreciate the invitation, Dr. Lecter, but I could never. I value manners just like you do.”

Good. There were few that did; Will certainly didn’t. “Then I believe we are at an impasse, Ms. Crawford. We’ll have to wait for Jack to return,” he said with a slight smile, and took a sip of his wine.

It didn’t take Jack long to return, and when he did, it was with an apology and good news in the same breath. “I’m sorry about that, but Beverly calling me means a break in the case,” he said, taking his seat again and pulling himself and the chair in towards the table. “We’ve identified the other Alpha with Will; someone recognized his scent, from the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, of all things. Do you remember an orderly named Matthew Brown?”

Ah, yes. There it was. Now he remembered, his mind conjuring up an image of the young Mr. Brown, the soft spoken one with a lisp who’d seemed so innocuous, so harmless. Of course, that was where he’d caught it before, no doubt in one of his visits to Will. But why would Matthew be helping Will?

“Yes, I do remember him,” he said, turning to Jack, pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind for the moment so he could focus on the conversation at and. “You believe him to be the one that’s helping Will?”

“He’s been missing from work for a few days, so it looks likely. We don’t know why he’s helping him, maybe they got friendly while Will was inside, but this is the first actual break we’ve had so far. If we can track Matthew’s movements, maybe we can figure out where they went.”

That was the hope, at least, and one that Hannibal wholeheartedly agreed with. He just wanted Will back, wanted his husband home, happy, his. Finding out about this brought them one step closer to finding him, to bringing him back to Hannibal, where he belonged. And now Hannibal had an actual enemy to focus on: Matthew Brown.


	13. A is for Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal gets closer to finding Will, and Will gets closer to Matthew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to take a moment to thank everyone who came in and defended me when I got that rude anon last chapter, it means a lot to me. Love you guys, and thanks for the support! <3 Hope you enjoy this chapter.

“Are you familiar with the Omega Civil Liberties Commission?”

Hannibal paused where he was at his desk, looking up at Jack as Jack paced the room, hands in his pockets. “I can’t say that I am. I’ve never really been involved in the Omega rights movement,” he answered, looking back down at the drawing that he’d been working on, sketching a few more lines. “Why do you ask?”

“We’ve been looking into Matthew Brown’s background, and it seems that he has more than a few connections to them. Meaning they might be involved in Will’s disappearance.”

Hannibal stopped again, looking up at Jack, who had stopped pacing and was half turned towards him. "How would they have become involved?” he asked, and Jack turned to look out the window again.

“Easily enough. They deal with helping Omegas that are in bad situations, arranged marriages, married to abusive Alphas, the like. If they heard about Will’s arranged marriage to you, found out that he was unhappy somehow, they’d help him out. With Matthew Brown,” Jack said, turning back to Hannibal. “To me, they have very little grounds to do that, but they’re very against arranged marriages, it’s one of the number one issues that they protest.”

“But how would they have found out about Will?”

Jack shrugged. “Someone must have called in a tip.”

Ah. Bedelia. It must have been her, who else would call in a tip about Will’s situation? Given her own rather tumultuous past, she must have taken pity on him, using what she learned in her sessions from Hannibal to get the OCLC involved. It wouldn’t be that hard; arranged marriage, attempted suicide, suspected rape, committal…On paper, it sounded bad, but Hannibal knew that it was all justified. Aside from the suicide attempt of course.

So Bedelia’s betrayal ran deeper than he’d thought. She was certainly sneaky, slippery, as much as Hannibal had wished that she could be a true confidante. They were similar, alike, close, and he had truly enjoyed their sessions together. What a shame, that she had to betray him like this. If it weren’t for her, Will would still be here with him, albeit reluctantly. He wouldn’t have been able to run away with help, and now he was off with some other Alpha, moving in between houses to keep himself safe. But safe from Hannibal? Will had nothing to fear from him. Hannibal would never hurt him, never touch him in anything other than a loving way, aside from maybe their rather rough bonding session. That had been an exception. In general, Hannibal loved Will more than anything and didn’t want to hurt him. He just wanted him home.

“If the OCLC is engaged in illegal behavior such as this, will you be able to coerce them into cooperating with the investigation?” he asked, tone even, calm, though he was hopeful because this new information meant that they were a step closer to finding Will. If they could just lean on the OCLC enough, perhaps they would cooperate.

“Perhaps. We’ve already started talking to them, and so far they’ve denied any involvement and claimed they don’t even know who Matthew Brown is.” Jack shook his head, and gave Hannibal a small smile. “But I’m confident that, in time, we’ll get them to reveal where Will is. It’s all just a matter of time at this point.”

Hannibal offered a smile back, feeling better than he had in days. “Of course. I’m sure that Will will be home very soon.”

***

Will woke up, once again, with a warm weight against his back, someone’s arms wrapped around him, and, once again, jumped into panic before he remembered where he was and who he was with. It was just Matthew, who seemed to be incapable of staying on his side of the bed, always ending up cuddling with Will sometime during the night. Not that Will entirely minded; while he had been particularly defensive of his personal space recently, he found that his nightmares had lessened since he and Matthew had started sharing a bed together, and even when he did have them, it was reassuring to wake up and feel another human being breathing next to him, feel the rise and fall of Matthew’s chest and his warm weight against him. He didn’t quite know why it relaxed him, but it did, and he was secretly glad that the house was so small that it only had one bedroom.

“Morning,” Matthew said, and Will nearly jumped, not having realized that he was awake. Which meant…

“Were you watching me sleep?” Will asked, tone a little accusatory, and Matthew snorted softly.

“I just woke up a few minutes ago. Didn’t want to disturb you when you actually looked peaceful for once.”

Will almost flushed at that, embarrassed at the accuracy of Matthew’s statement. Yeah, peaceful wasn’t exactly something that he did very well, as hard as he might try. He’d given up trying quite long ago, and just didn’t bother anymore. What was the point? He knew that the nightmares would eventually catch up to him, no matter how many sleeping pills he took or how many therapists he saw. Though thinking of therapists reminded him of Hannibal, and he felt nauseous at the thought.

“Your pulse increased,” Matthew murmured, strong hands turning over one of Will’s, fingers wrapping around his wrist to feel his pulse, measure his heartbeat. Will didn’t pull it out of his grasp, letting his head fall against the pillow again. He was too tired to fight Matthew at the moment, and besides, the Alpha wasn’t doing any harm. Just taking his pulse, and commenting on it. “What were you thinking about?”

Will swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing up and then down with the action. Matthew had lifted up onto his elbow to look at him, though Will didn’t return the gaze, staring at the wall across from where he laid. “Hannibal,” he confessed, the name spoken in a low voice, as if he was afraid of summoning the man himself just by uttering his name. It certainly felt like a possibility, like Hannibal was the Devil himself, and speaking of him made him appear. But still, the poisoned name crossed Will’s lips, and Matthew hummed contemplatively, fingers now gently stroking the inside of Will’s wrist in a motion that Will found he didn’t mind at all.

When was the last time he’d received affection from someone who wasn’t Hannibal? Real, true affection, not a pat on the back or a clap of his shoulder? And getting it from Matthew was a strange place to get it from, and he wasn’t sure why Matthew was giving it to him, but he appreciated it nonetheless. Maybe Matthew was just an affectionate person in general. Will really didn’t know him well enough to say, hardly knew anything about him. Part of the reason he was still somewhat nervous around him, though currently he was pretty relaxed with him, still tired, his guard down. And it felt nice this way.

“Are you afraid that he’ll find us?” Matthew asked after a minute, now drawing his fingertips up Will’s forearm and back down again, soothingly. It made the subject matter a little easier to deal with.

“Petrified,” Will answered, eyes glazing over slightly as he stared at the wall. A moment later, he turned onto his back so he could look at Matthew, Matthew’s hand moving from his forearm to his abdomen, palm pressed gently against it, just resting there. “Are you?”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Matthew said, and those dark eyes didn’t lie. Up close, Will could see that they were actually a very pretty shade of green, fern or perhaps forest. They merely looked dark in most lights, though perhaps that was also a side effect of Matthew’s Alpha nature. He wasn’t a typical Alpha as far as Will had seen, but he was still quite formidable, a little bit intimidating. But after being subjected to Hannibal, Will wasn’t terribly afraid of him. Perhaps that was a mistake, but he’d yet to have a reason to believe that it was.

“I’m not afraid of Hannibal,” Will said, his voice steady, even, showing no lie. “I’m afraid of what comes with him. Losing my freedom. Carrying a child. Starting a family with someone who I will never love, who’s obsessed with me and will never let me go. I’m afraid of what will happen if he finds me, not of him himself.”

Matthew considered it for a moment, then nodded. “I understand,” he said softly, and lay his head back down on the pillow, prompting Will to turn his head so he could continue to look at him. “I’d be afraid of that too.”

“I thought you weren’t afraid of anything,” Will teased lightly, a small smile on his face, and Matthew smiled back at him, looking delighted, though whether it was the teasing or the fact that Will was actually smiling for the first time in weeks was unknown to Will. He liked to think it was the latter.

“I’m afraid for you, how’s that?” Matthew asked, and Will chuckled, turning back to face the wall again. 

“I appreciate the concern, but how many other escaping Omegas have you told that to?”

“None. You’re a special case.”

Special. Seemed that Will was special somehow, at least to Hannibal and apparently to Matthew as well. He understood the importance to Hannibal; Hannibal saw him as something new, something different, something entertaining and interesting. But he didn’t understand why Matthew found him special, and turned to face him again.

“Why?” he asked, brow furrowed, eyes moving between Matthew’s in a rare moment of eye contact.

Matthew licked his lips, looking up at the ceiling as he considered the question. A moment later those green eyes flicked back to his, and he smiled. “Because you are special, Mr. Graham. More than you know. Breakfast?”

He was getting out of the bed before Will could even speak, getting up and throwing on a t-shirt to cover that absolutely beautiful musculature that Will was envious of. Will got up as well, moving to grab a pair of sweatpants to pull on, having given up wearing them to bed when he just woke up dripping with sweat and feverish all the time. Besides, it wasn’t like Matthew was interested in him in some way and would get something out of seeing him in boxers, they were both mutually disinterested in each other, even if they ended up cuddling together every night, a fight Will had stopped fighting. He felt better with Matthew’s arms around him for some reason, preferred things that way. There was nothing wrong with them taking comfort in each other.

Matthew headed downstairs first, leaving Will upstairs to take a quick shower, washing off last night’s sweat. When he was finished, he headed downstairs, walking into the tiny kitchen to find Matthew already making breakfast, as he usually did. In general, Matthew cooked more than Will did, as he seemed to be better at it, and as he stated, “It’s my job to take care of you. That includes making sure you’re fed.” Will appreciated the help, and didn’t question it. They’d only been here for a few days, anyway, and Matthew had said that they’d likely be moving again soon, just to make sure that Hannibal wasn’t on their trail, and that if he was, they could trick him into believing that Will was somewhere else by taking his scent and marking other houses with it. Leaving behind one of his shirts, perhaps, in one house, a few hairs in another. Anything to throw Hannibal off, make sure that he didn’t find out where they really were.

Matthew seemed confident that the plan would work, but Will was a little bit more dubious. He knew how intelligent Hannibal was, and he wasn’t likely to be fooled by a few hairs and a false scent trail. Then again, he was somewhat blinded by his love for Will, having difficulty operating properly when it came to him. He should have been smart enough to see right through Will’s act when he said he wanted to come home, but he’d been so blinded by his desire to be one big happy family with Will that he’d put on blinders and bought right into what Will was saying. Will could only hope that that blindness and misguided sight would continue during the investigation for him. Though Hannibal did have the FBI on his side, which was an incredible advantage. Then again, Will had the OCLC, a rather expansive organization with enough resources to keep moving him between safe houses and assign him his own personal bodyguard. And what a bodyguard Matthew was.

“So are you a permanent fixture in my life now, or will there be someone to relieve you of your post at some point?” Will asked as he entered the kitchen, Matthew not even casting a glance at him, too busy scrambling eggs.

“Nope, I’m assigned to you specifically. You’re stuck with me,” he said, and threw a smile over his shoulder at Will, who returned in kind before sitting down at the table. He knew that it’d be no use asking Matthew if he wanted his help, so he didn’t bother. He just turned it down every single time, so he wouldn’t ask this time, instead playing with the salt shaker on the table, batting it back and forth between his hands as he thought.

What he’d said to Matthew had been half true. He was mostly afraid of what came with Hannibal—the loss of freedom, the carrying of a child, the start of a family he didn’t want—but he was also afraid of Hannibal himself. It was hard not to be, when all he associated with him was pain and a near death experience, the memory of both his rape and following attempted suicide still fresh in his mind, brutal. Just like Hannibal had been. He absentmindedly rubbed at the scar on his neck, the bonding mark that he’d never be able to get rid of, the reminder of who he supposedly belonged to. But in truth, he didn’t belong to anyone but himself, and he wouldn’t let himself fall to Hannibal again. No matter what it took to ensure that.

“Stop rubbing at it, you’ll only irritate your skin.”

Will looked up as Matthew came over with a plate that he deposited in front of him, Will dropping his hand away from his neck. “Can’t really help it,” he said, accepting the fork that Matthew handed him before he stepped away again, grabbing his own plate and coming to sit down at the small circular table, across from Will. “Bad memories have a tendency to haunt our minds anyway, scars only make those ghosts more potent. More powerful in their vexation.”

“You’re very articulate when you speak, Mr. Graham,” Matthew said, looking slightly amused as he raised his fork to his mouth for his first bite.

Will smiled slightly, looking down at his plate. “I try to be succinct but I have a tendency to get carried away with my words,” he confessed, taking a bite of his eggs. “And really, you can stop calling me ‘Mr. Graham’. Will is fine. William, if you’re feeling formal. Willy is right out of the question.”

Matthew laughed softly. “I don’t think I could ever call you Willy, and if I do feel free to hit me,” he said, eyes sparkling as he looked at Will in a way that struck him. It was almost…no, couldn’t be. He was imagining things. He shook his head slightly as he returned to his food, Matthew’s eyes on him for a moment longer before he looked down at his plate as well.

Overall, things felt very domestic at the moment, and a question crossed Will’s mind that he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask, in case it was interpreted the wrong way. “Am I…” he started, then stopped, mulling it over. Fuck it. Just go for it. “Am I keeping you from someone?”

Matthew smelled liked he was unbonded, Will was in fact sure that he was, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t courting someone or the like. He could very easily be in a similar situation to Will, only on the opposite side, in an arranged marriage that maybe he wasn’t looking forward to. Or he could be ecstatic for it, Will didn’t know, and his curiosity got the best of him.

Matthew smiled as he took a sip of orange juice, shaking his head. “No, you’re not keeping me from anyone. I’ve never really been big into relationships, and I despise the idea of arranged marriages. As you can tell by who I work for,” he said, setting the glass back down. The look in his eyes changed as well as his tone, turning into something playful, teasing. “Why, is one Alpha not enough for you?”

Will was glad that he didn’t flush at the question, though he was dangerously close to it, embarrassed because of course Matthew had taken it the wrong way. He’d been expecting him to. “One Alpha is too many for me,” he answered, determinedly looking down at his plate as he speared some more food onto his fork. “I’m also not big on relationships. Though I didn’t really have a chance to have one outside of Hannibal.”

“Yeah, well, we aim to change that. We’ll get you a divorce, make sure he can’t even go near you again, and you’ll be free to have your own relationships. Get married to someone, don’t get married to someone, have a family, don’t have a family…” Matthew shrugged. “Whatever you want. You’ll be free.”

Free. God, that was a wonderful idea, wasn’t it, and Will could only dream of it happening. Something in the back of his mind continued to tell him that escape was a fantasy, that he’d never be able to leave Hannibal behind and start a new life. There was always that voice of doubt, whispering insidiously in his ear that he was trapped forever and Hannibal was coming to get him, like the boogeyman out of a child’s nightmare. Hannibal _was_ his nightmare, only he was flesh and blood and bone and power. And Will was never sure if he was going to be safe or not. Matthew was careful to assure him that he would be, but he’d believed Bedelia more when she’d said that she honestly didn’t know whether he would be or not. He believed that reality, not the fantasy where everything would be fine and Hannibal wouldn’t find him again and he’d be safe and he wouldn’t have to go back to that awful place with that awful Alpha.

But it all remained to be seen. The future was uncertain, and he could only sit and wait and talk to Matthew and wait and wait and wait and wait to see what would happen next. No doubt that everyone else was also holding their breath, waiting to see who would win out in a battle of wills and deceit. Hannibal was better at lying. Will was better at surviving. In the end, one of them had to come out of this as the winner, and Will’s freedom was the prize at stake. And he fully intended to win it.


	14. A is for Apprehend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal finally catches up to Will.

Thank god they were in a room with other people. That was the only thought going through Will’s head, the one his brain kept churching in soft whispers to him as he glared across the room at Hannibal, choosing anger over fear because right now, he _was_ angry. And meanwhile Hannibal was looking at him with nothing but love, love, love in his eyes, adoration his primary emotion as he gazed at Will so tenderly from across the room. He hated it more than he’d ever hated anything in his life, hated Hannibal that much. Despised him.

But he was trapped. Stuck with Hannibal across the room from him, so calmly standing by the door, clearly ready in case Will tried to run, while agents swarmed and swam in between the two of them, carefully keeping them separate because Will had already tried to hurt Hannibal twice and looked like he was going to do it again. Jack was next to him, trying to talk some reason into him, but there was a ringing in Will’s ears, everything sounding muffled and far away. He could only hear his own heartbeat, beating out an erratic, uneven rhythm that was far too fast and far too strong. It almost hurt, and he put a hand to his chest, trying to rub out the pain, Hannibal’s eyes following the motion. His eyes seemed to soften at it, and he took a sly step towards Will, who tensed, prepared to launch himself at him again. Jack looked between the two of them, noting how Hannibal had moved closer, and instantly went to him, placing a hand on his chest to gently push him back, no doubt murmuring to him about how Will wasn’t ready yet, how it’d be best for him to stay on his side of the room.

That was the best advice he could give him, considering Will was ready to tear Hannibal’s throat out with his teeth, and Hannibal honestly looked a little turned on by it. The sick fuck. If Will was an Alpha, he would have been growling and pacing the room by now, anger showing through in his dominant nature, but he wasn’t one. He was an Omega, the last thing he wanted to be, stuck in this room with the mate that he’d never wanted, never asked for, who only had the worst things in mind for him.

There was a sick twist of fear in Will’s stomach, momentarily overwhelming the anger. What would Hannibal do to him now that he had him back? What punishments did he have in mind, how would he retaliate for Will running off with another Alpha, even if he hadn’t really been interested in Matthew that way? Certainly he’d learned his lesson about the BSHCI; he wouldn’t be sending Will there again, not when that was how he’d managed to get help in the first place. Besides, a separation from Hannibal wouldn’t really be a punishment, now would it? It was almost a reward. No, Hannibal would want to keep Will close after this, try to force the bond between them to grow stronger, though Will was now convinced that it was only felt on Hannibal’s side, and not on his side, because he felt nothing but anger when he and Hannibal were in the same room. He’d have no trouble hurting him, would enjoy it, in fact, and that _never_ happened with bonded couples. Usually the guilt was too much, even though some Alphas did abuse their Omegas. And Will worried what was in store for him now.

Hannibal would be more creative than a beating, knowing it’d have little effect on Will anyway and just alienate his allies if they found out about it. No, he knew that inflicting his presence on Will would be so much worse for him, and would devise punishments based around that. Certainly restricting him to the house, that was the obvious one, making sure that he wouldn’t run again, even if he didn’t have help this time. He wouldn’t make it very far on his own, that was common knowledge, really, but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t try. He hated Hannibal enough to run out in the middle of frigid winter if he had to, never mind the relatively mild fall weather they were currently having. So confinement, certainly, to the house, and perhaps even just one room. And constant subjection to Hannibal’s presence. No doubt Hannibal would take the time off again, temporarily suspend his appointments so that he could tend to Will, make sure that he adjusted to coming home, and that he didn’t escape again. And probably subject him to other, worse punishments, all in preparation for his next heat, the next opportunity for pregnancy.

Will felt sick at the very thought. No, he couldn’t go through that again, and nobody seemed to understand how desperate he was to avoid it, how he simply wasn’t capable of withstanding Hannibal a second time. He didn’t know what would happen if he was subjected to that a second time and suicide wasn’t an option. Maybe it would break him like Hannibal intended, and he would finally give in and give up, start the family that Hannibal wanted and pretend to love him in a sham of a relationship that people would smile upon as being healthy and happy. He felt like vomiting at the very idea. In fact, he felt incredibly sick at the moment, and hoped that if he did throw up, it would be on Hannibal’s expensive shoes. That way he could at least ruin something in his life, just like he’d ruined Will’s.

He didn’t know where Matthew was. He’d disappeared sometime in the middle of everything, and Will wasn’t sure whether they had him in custody or if he’d managed to escape. He desperately hoped for the latter, because that meant that someone out there was still on his side, and he had at least a tiny chance of escaping again. Tiny, but at least it was something. That would just have to keep him going for the time being. Besides, he was worried about Matthew. They’d gotten…well, at least closer, if not close, during their time together, and Will had really grown to like the other man. To the point that he'd stopped seeing him as a bodyguard and started to see him as something else. What that something else was, he didn’t know, but certainly something other than his guardian, protector, benefactor. And now he was concerned for his safety. Oh, if Hannibal only knew how close he’d gotten to the other Alpha. It’d put him into such stunning jealousy that maybe his head would simply explode and all of Will’s problems would be solved. He could dream.

“You know, you could at least try to behave.”

Will looked away from his death stare with Hannibal to see Bev sidle up to him, crossing her arms as she leaned back against Hannibal’s desk next to Will. He snorted, turning back to Hannibal, whose attention was now occupied by Jack, his eyes off of Will for the first time since he’d entered the room as Jack continued talking a voice too low for Will to hear, though he could imagine what he was saying. ‘He’s just not ready yet, you need to give him some time, he’ll come around, he’s probably still in shock, he’ll adjust over time, I’m sure he’s secretly pleased to see you’. Things Hannibal would be smart enough not to believe, though perhaps his love for Will would blind him, make him hopeful and therefore, easier to manipulate.

Though if Will tried to fool him again, he wouldn’t be successful this time around. Hannibal would be too smart, having learned his lesson from the first manipulation, and would be able to tell the difference between acting and Will truly being broken. Especially considering Will had already tried to kill him during their first time back together again, the worst reunion that Will had ever been subjected to. The one that he’d hoped to avoid with all of his might, but his prayers had gone unanswered. Now he was stuck here with the enemy that was supposed to be his lover, glaring at him from across the room even when Hannibal’s eyes were elsewhere, as they were now.

“I’m going to kill him, Bev. If it’s the last thing I do,” he said, voice bitter, dark, and felt her eyes on him, sensed her surprise as she looked at him. “The world is better off without Hannibal Lecter.”

“That’s pretty heavy, Will. I’ve never heard you say someone actually deserves to die.”

Will smiled a little bit, turning to her, and she honestly seemed a bit afraid of his expression. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. He deserves to die.”

‘That’s not a very nice thing to say about your husband. And we both know it’s not true.”

Will looked up again, finding that Hannibal had approached by a few steps, Jack at his side, still a safe distance away, protected if Will tried to attack him again.

“Oh, it’s incredibly true, Dr. Lecter,” Will said, purposely using his formal title just to twist the knife in a little more. “I always mean what I say.”

Hannibal tilted his head, just slightly, to the side. “Unless you’re speaking to me, of course. In which case you have no qualms about lying.”

“I would tell you the truth if I thought you deserved it,” Will answered, something designed to hurt in his tone, sharp, pointed, but Hannibal seemed unaffected. Probably because he was just too goddamn happy to have Will back, even if it was in a room crowded with agents, all working to make sure that Will didn’t straight up murder him. Still, he looked pleased, a small, smug little smile on his lips, one that Will wanted to keep hitting and hitting and hitting until Hannibal’s entire face was unrecognizable. That was the dream, at least. Not the reality that he had.

No, reality was a lot bleaker than that, and he would have to face it at some point. For the moment, however, he was contemplating the easiest way to kill Hannibal with the tools available to him, and he settled for choking him to death with his hands. It’d be intimate, personal, as close as they were ever going to get again. Something for Hannibal to happily take to his grave.

Will’s hands were clenching and unclenching of their own accord where they rested against the desk, gripping the edge, then letting go, then gripping it again. Hannibal’s eyes traveling to the motion was the only thing that clued him in to the fact that he was doing it, and he stopped himself, gripping the edge of the desk instead to keep himself from trying to strangle Hannibal when he knew he’d just be stopped again. The agents around him were determined to save his life, protect him, for some reason, because they didn’t see his true nature. Well, the scales had fallen from Will’s eyes. He saw Hannibal for exactly what he was; dangerous, and willing to do anything for Will.

Because Will knew now. He knew exactly what Hannibal was, exactly how dangerous. He’d heard how they found him, in a hushed conversation between Bev and another agent that they thought he couldn’t hear. Several high-ranking members of the OCLC had disappeared, and turned up in the most gruesome displays the FBI had probably ever seen, each one splayed out to send a message to the organization. Well, the message had worked. They’d immediately folded, given up Will and Matthew’s last location in an effort to just get the killings to stop. Hannibal, of course, was suspected, but they’d found absolutely no evidence that he did it and had dropped him as a suspect, everyone going on normally like they hadn’t found a monster and then just let him go.

But Will knew the truth. He knew without a doubt that Hannibal had killed for him, and judging by the ease with which he’d done it, it probably wasn’t the first time. Which raised quite a few questions about him, ones that Will wasn’t sure he was prepared to answer. Some things were better left untouched, careful hands boxing it up and putting it back on the shelf it lived on. Then again, Will knew that Hannibal wasn’t going to kill him. This could be his only chance to get something on Hannibal, find something that could set him free. It all remained to be seen.

That was where his life was right now. Everything hanging by delicate threads that led back to Hannibal’s hands, his fate at the moment left up to the Alpha. As usual, Hannibal was having his way, and for perhaps the first time in his life, Will was truly frightened. This didn’t compare to the fear he’d felt when Hannibal had broken down the door to the bedroom in preparation to breed him, this was an entirely different breed of terror. It dug sharp claws into the back of his brain, applying pressure as he continued to look at Hannibal, who was gazing back at him adoringly, all the love in the world in his eyes. It made Will physically nauseous, but he resisted the urge to vomit that was trying to rise in his throat. That wouldn’t help anything right now.

“I’m very sorry that you feel that way, Will,” Hannibal said, his tone nothing but polite, pleasant. As if he was having a friendly chat, and not talking to someone who would gladly rip him apart with his teeth if he had a chance. “I can only hope you’ll change your opinion in the future.”

“There is no future,” Will forced out through gritted teeth, nearly on the edge of growling, though that was usually an Alpha’s job. Well, he’d never really fit his gender anyway. “Not with you.”

“With Matthew, then?”

Will started at that, surprised by the question and the pure jealousy that had taken over Hannibal’s expression, his displeasure clear. “It wasn’t—” he started, but stopped again. He could tell the truth, sure, but that would only put Hannibal at ease. At the same time, it might make him angry enough to try to take action against Matthew, wherever he was, and Will didn’t want to risk that. He’d gotten close enough to the other Alpha that he cared about his wellbeing and didn’t want to jeopardize his safety. So he settled for not saying anything at all, crossing his arms against his chest, and Hannibal’s displeasure only seemed to increase before his face smoothed back over again, into that calm, even surface he usually had. Putting on a show for everyone else in the room, though it was too late. His jealousy was clear for all to see, and Jack looked down at the ground, clearing his throat.

“Will,” he said, looking back up, “I think it’s time for you to go home.”

***

Things started going wrong on Tuesday.

“We need to move,” Matthew said as he swept into the room, already carrying their bags, and Will looked up in alarm from his coffee.

“Why?” he asked, brow furrowed low over sea blue eyes.

“The OCLC fed the FBI our last location and they’re tracking us from there. It’s only a matter of time before they find us.”

Shit. Shit fuck damnit—a long string of curses went through Will’s head, each one worse than the last because he couldn’t do this, no, he couldn’t be found. Panic started rising in his chest, and it must have shown in his expression because Matthew crossed the room to him, gently taking one of his hands in both of his own.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said softly, and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. “They’re not going to find us.”

Us. Why did that word trigger something in him, why did it make him want to break down right here and now? Was it just because it meant that he had an honest ally, someone finally looking out for him and protecting him? Or was it something more, something about Matthew himself? No, that was a ridiculous thought. He didn’t view Matthew as anything other than a friend, and he shouldn’t have even viewed him that way because that wasn’t what he was. He was a guardian for Will, assigned to his case, that was all. They were nothing more.

“I’m trying hard to believe you,” Will said as Matthew rubbed soothing circles into Will’s hand with his thumbs.

Matthew released a slow exhale through his nose, then leaned in closer, those dark eyes hypnotizing Will, freezing him in place though by all means, he should have been pulling back by now. Personal space, remember? “I know you are. We’ll work it out,” he said, and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before pulling away entirely, leaving Will once again confused as to why he was showing any affection towards Will. Maybe he just realized how much he needed it. Or maybe…No, still a ridiculous thought, and not one he was going to linger on. Not worth it.

Will got up, setting his cup down, and said, “I’ll get dressed.”

“No time for that. Just put on shoes and get in the car. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Will obeyed quickly, grabbing the bags on the way out and bringing them out to the running car, the fall air biting. It’d been a few months on the run now, moving in between houses as necessary and never going to the same place twice. The longest they’d stay in a house would be a few weeks, but fear of discovery prevented them from staying there any longer than that. It was exhausting, draining to constantly move about like this, and Will found himself just wanting to settle in one place with Matthew, stay there with a permanent guard by his side, maybe adopt a few dogs, and just live in peace without fear of Hannibal catching up to him. As it was, at one of the houses he found a stray wandering around and started feeding it every day, making sure that it was at least well looked after while they were there. They couldn’t take the dog with them, though, so he had to just slip a note under a neighbor’s door asking them to take care of him, not taking the risk of being seen by anyone. It was the best he could do, considering the circumstances.

He put the bags into the back of the car and got in on the passenger side, waiting for Matthew as he looked at the house. He’d miss this one, he’d liked it quite a bit. It was a bit bigger than most of the houses they’d been in, but not by much. It’d had two bedrooms, but neither of them had said a word about it, simply sharing the same bed and continuing their nighttime routine of ending up wrapped around each other by the morning. Neither of them fought it anymore, curling up together at the start of the night and waking up twisted together in the morning, and Will’s nightmares had significantly decreased. He still had them, but when he woke up sweating and gasping for air, Matthew was there to soothe him back to sleep, hold him against his chest and rub his back and talk to him softly until he was calm enough to sleep again. And on the nights when he couldn’t get back to sleep, Matthew would stay up with him, pull out a deck of cards and play Spit with him and talk and laugh until they made it to the morning, safe. Really, Will owed Matthew quite a bit for what he’d done for him, and wasn’t sure how to go about repaying him. If he even could.

Matthew came out a minute later, slipping something back into his pocket and brushing himself off as he headed towards the car. As he got into the car, sliding into his seat with a comfortable ease, Will smelled a distinct scent that made his brow furrow over his eyes, taking another sniff to make sure he was right.  
“You smell like sex,” he said as Matthew strapped himself in before putting the car in reverse to back out of the driveway.

“I know I do,” he answered, and Will waited for a further explanation, the silence dragging on for a few minutes. Apparently he wasn’t getting one.

“Why?” he finally asked, turning away from the windshield to glance at Matthew.

Matthew smiled at him, giving him a quick wink, and left it at that, not offering Will any other information, leaving him to try to puzzle it out on his own as they drove, headed to another safe house that would turn out to be the last.

***

Things started going right on Tuesday.

That was the day the OCLC folded, finally giving in to the FBI’s demands because they couldn’t afford to lose any more high-ranking members and they just wanted the killing to stop. Fear was a powerful motivator, Hannibal knew that well, and that was why he’d been so convinced that his plan would work. Simply take out a few officials, and watch as the commission came apart at the seams, panic taking over.

Of course, he was suspected for it, but naturally they couldn’t find any evidence that he did it, and didn’t want to find any evidence. The entirety of the FBI was on his side, making him more powerful than he’d ever been before. Still, he didn’t feel entirely smug in his victory. He wouldn’t feel that way until he had Will home, safe. Under his control again, though there was only so much that he could control him. Will was rather tenacious, after all, and after having so much freedom for so many months, he’d be incredibly reluctant to fall under Hannibal’s wing again. He’d want that freedom back, and would no doubt fight his hardest for its return. But Hannibal was prepared for that.

What he wasn’t prepared for, however, was the smell of Alpha-Omega sex permeating the air when he entered the latest safe house they’d tracked them to, the smell of it nearly overwhelming as he entered the abandoned bedroom. One of Will’s pairs of boxer shorts was lying partially underneath the bed, and Hannibal’s stomach twisted sickly with jealousy as the smell of sex overwhelmed his sensitive nose, making it hard for him to think of anything but _mine mine mine mine mine_. He was going to kill the other Alpha. Rip him apart with his bare hands, then eat his cowardly heart, serve it to Will so he understood that this mistake was not to be repeated.

But it didn’t make sense to him. There wasn’t the smell of fear or anxiety in the room, none of the emotions that had accompanied his bonding with Will, and even if Will had willingly bonded with someone, they would have been there. Sex panicked him, why would this be an exception? And there was something else, too, something just underneath the surface of the scent, something that didn’t make sense. It almost smelled…artificial. Fake, in some way. Fabricated, designed to incite anger without being genuine. Yes, that was it. It was fake.

Hannibal felt a wave of relief go through him as he realized that the scent was merely a ruse, something designed to make him jealous and angry, make him blind to the other evidence in the room. This was carefully staged, meant to distract him and make him lose focus. Well, it hadn’t worked. He wasn’t going to be fooled by this, wasn’t going to be blinded by it and certainly wouldn’t let it make him jealous, though there was still that sick twisting in his stomach from when he’d thought it was real that wouldn’t go away. Instead of lingering in the room, letting the feeling get worse, he meandered down into the kitchen, feeling the coffee cup on the table on a whim. It was still warm.

“Jack!” he called, knowing that they had a very limited window of opportunity here and he had to take advantage of it. He was going to get Will back, one way or another. He’d already sacrificed so much for him, done so much to ensure his safe return. Now he could feel his phantom presence in this house, smell his warm, comforting scent and feel with his fingertips against the cup the warmth of his skin, or so he imagined. Soon he’d really have his skin underneath his fingertips, have him back where he belonged. So soon.

***

“No, I’m not going anywhere with him.” Will’s voice was firm, convinced, absolutely dead set on this because maybe if he was firm enough with everyone, they would realize the mistake that they were making and save him. It was a dream, something he knew would never happen, but he could hope, at the very least. All he had left was hope. And Matthew, wherever he was.

“Will,” Jack said, his voice in that warning firmness he had, letting Will know that he wasn’t going to have any of this and it’d be better if he just cooperated. But if they wanted Will to go home with Hannibal, they were going to have to drag him out of here kicking and screaming. “You need to go home. This nonsense has gone on long enough.”

“It’s not nonsense, Jack! Jesus Christ, when will you all realize what he’s really like? Does he have to kill me before you understand that he’s bad for me?” Will’s voice was bitter and sharp, tone biting as he lashed out at the people around him in the only way he could; verbally. He couldn’t very well hurt Hannibal, as much as he wanted to, so this was his only option, try and talk sense into the people around him though he knew he was going to lose. He always lost to Hannibal. “He’s dangerous, and he intends to force me to have a family with him. He raped me once already and drove me to suicide, what the hell do you think is going happen if he has me ‘under his care’ again? How far does he have to take this before you realize what’s going on?”

“Will, he is your _husband_. He wants nothing but the best for you, all of us do. Hannibal is what’s best for you. He loves you and cares about you, to the point that he’s willing to forgive you for all of this.”

Will laughed bitterly at that, eyes going to Jack before they moved back to Hannibal, who was watching the conversation quietly. “Forgive me,” he said, and sadly, there wasn’t any disbelief in his voice, because oh, he believed it. Very easily, in fact. “You’re willing to forgive _me_ for all of this.”

Hannibal nodded calmly, eyes careful as he watched Will. “Of course I am. Your safe return to me is more important to me than any transgressions you may have committed in your time away from me. I know you were with another Alpha, and while nothing happened between you, I am still willing to forgive you for being with him in the first place.”

“Just because we didn’t have sex doesn’t mean nothing happened between us,” Will snapped, the words out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying. He paused, seeing the look in Hannibal’s eyes, a mix of darkness and jealousy, and realized that what he’d said was true. Things _had_ happened between him and Matthew, just not of a sexual nature. They’d shared a bed every night, curled up together, and Matthew had shown him nothing but care and affection. Jesus Christ, it’d been exactly what he thought; Matthew was in love with him. Or at the very least had some sort of romantic feelings towards him. He’d seen it in his eyes, felt it in his gentle touch, and yet he’d denied it so vehemently because he wasn’t prepared to face it. Everyone who had ever loved him had managed to hurt him, so why would he want to recognize love when he saw it?

But that wasn’t something to deal with right now. He pushed it to the back of his mind, filed it away to deal with later because right now he had more pressing issues than Matthew’s feelings for him. Right now he was fighting dragons, and he couldn’t think about the knight in shining armor that he no longer had. He had to face this by himself, as he faced most things. It’d been nice to pretend he didn’t have to for a little while.

Hannibal took a deep breath, seeming to hesitate before he spoke. “As I said, I’m willing to forgive you, Will. Will you forgive me?”

Oh, and here was the heartwarming moment that they were supposed to have, where Will was supposed to say he forgave Hannibal so they could go happily off into the sunset to have a million kids together and a strong, tried and true marriage. Well, that wasn’t going to happen. Will had had enough of this and he wasn’t going to let this happen again, wasn’t going to fall on his own sword for the sake of everyone else. He’d done that enough in his life, and what had it earned him? Hannibal Lecter. That was his prize for good fucking behavior. Not anymore. He wasn’t going through this again.

So in answer, he spit at Hannibal’s feet, turning away from him to look at the fireplace behind the desk, the same room from his dreams. Nightmares, really, and he was in another one, but one that he couldn’t wake up from and Jack was roughly turning him around, his angry words falling on deaf ears, that same ringing from before invading Will’s brain and setting up shop there, making it hard for him to focus on anything but the small, displeased twitch to Hannibal’s lips as he turned away. Good. Let the bastard burn. Will would take everything down with him if he had to, burn it all down just to escape. He was beyond angry at the moment; he was on fire, burning out through his core, flames licking at his brain, ashes settling in his churning abdomen. He was going to make it out of this alive, no matter what he had to do, and Hannibal Lecter wasn’t going to be able to stop him. No one was.


	15. A is for Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The OCLC sends an agent to get involved, and Will learns his fate.

“Jack, the representative from the OCLC is here.”

It was Jimmy at his elbow, so helpfully delivering the news, and Jack gave one final warning look to Will before stalking away, walking towards the dark-haired woman who had just entered Hannibal’s office. Not exactly the most opportune place to have this little pow wow, but they’d needed to take Will somewhere he was familiar with, somewhere with Hannibal’s scent, and they couldn’t take him home just yet. Not when he was reacting so violently and the OCLC was breathing down their necks, promising to make more trouble if the FBI continued on the path they were on. Returning Will Graham to his rightful place; by Hannibal’s side.

“Jack, this is Alana Bloom. Alana Bloom, Jack Crawford,” Jimmy said, then conveniently disappeared as the two shook hands, clearly not wanting to see the effects of the storm that was brewing play out.

“Ms. Bloom. I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you, but considering the current circumstances…” Jack left the sentence without an official ending, his voice brisk, businesslike, the one that usually whipped his subordinates right into shape. Alana didn’t seem impressed.

“I’m afraid this meeting isn’t going to be pleasant, for either of us, I’m sure,” she said, her own voice cold, holding a barely contained fury that Jack could hear and knew wasn’t a good sign for where this conversation was going. “How could it be, when you’re oppressing someone’s basic human rights and denying that you’re doing it?”

“No one is being denied their rights, you know the laws. Will Graham is legally married to Dr. Lecter, his disappearance is still being considered a kidnapping. A kidnapping that _your_ organization aided and abetted, I might add.”

“It’s not a kidnapping if the person in question willingly left their husband in an attempt to escape an abusive situation,” Alana said, and her voice was fire now, hard and cold but burning, like dry ice against salted skin. Lesser men would have been intimidated, and as it was, Jack was surprised by the amount of hostility in her bearing, though he shouldn’t have been. Every member of the OCLC was very passionate about what they did, and Alana seemed to be no exception. Perhaps that was why they’d sent her. Because they’d known how much passion she’d put into her argument for Will.

“Will Graham was raped, and then attempted suicide as a way to cope with what happened to him. What about that is unclear?” she asked, a hard edge to her voice, and Jack shook his head, looking away from her.

“He went through a bonding ritual and then attempted to kill himself because of his own delicate psyche. Will is and always has been unstable.”

“And what do you think pushed him over the edge? Or who, rather. You can defend Hannibal Lecter all you’d like but he is the guilty party here, not Will. Don’t try to blame the victim for something that clearly isn’t his fault. That’s the exact sort of mentality that gets dozens of Omegas hurt every day.”

“Those Omegas are in worse situations than Will. Dr. Lecter isn’t abusive, he’s an incredibly caring individual who wants the best for Will,” Jack said, adamant in this, but they were interrupted by the clear sound of a slap ringing throughout the room. They both turned to see Hannibal with his head turned to the side, Will’s hand still raised from where he’d clearly, solidly smacked Hannibal across his face.

“Will!” Jack reprimanded sharply, but Hannibal’s eyes returned to Will, calm maroon meeting blazing blue.

“It’s perfectly alright, Jack. It’s my fault, I touched him before he was ready,” Hannibal said, eyes locked with Will, who was giving him a look that under any other circumstances, might have turned him to stone. Luckily they weren’t in a world where that was possible, and Hannibal was escaping with only perhaps a scrape to his ego.

“See? This is exactly what I mean. Will is openly hostile towards Dr. Lecter, clearly the bond didn’t take. If they aren’t truly bonded, then there’s nothing you can do to stop Will from walking out that door with me and seeking sanctuary with the OCLC.”

“There is plenty I can do to stop that,” Jack said sharply as he turned to face Alana again, who’d placed her hands on her hips. “Will legally belongs to Hannibal now, and I was his guardian before that. Even if you say his marriage is null and void, his custody falls back to me and I will not have the OCLC whisk him away to god knows where in the name of ‘protection’. He doesn’t need protection from anything but you people.”

Alana visibly bristled at this, her lips pursing into a thin, hard line. “‘You people’? You mean the commission that’s trying to make sure he’s safe and cared for? If you really had his best interests at heart, you’d allow him to separate from Dr. Lecter for his own safety and security, wouldn’t have even hunted him down in the first place. As it stands, the OCLC is prepared to sue you for the violation of his right to leave an abusive situation.”

“It’s not an abusive situation! If it was, I would have Will removed from Hannibal’s care immediately. Good luck trying to prove in court that it is one, it’s your word against ours and I know the statistics for the OCLC going up against bigger organizations. The FBI is going to be trusted, not your little club.”

“Our ‘little club’ is the only thing protecting Will from his abusive husband. Unless you don’t count flat out rape as abuse, in which case I suggest you take a look at your moral code.” Her voice was biting, bitter and sharp and looking to hurt, anger showing through that was just barely on a leash and bound to be let off at any second. Jack was feeling just about the same way, trying to keep calm though his frustration was bleeding through into his tone and expression.

This was why he hated dealing with the OCLC. Because they all thought that they were better than everyone else, _knew_ better than everyone else what was good for Omegas. And in this case, Alana was simply wrong. Hannibal was what was good for Will. Will would come around, he would just take some to adjust to being bonded to Hannibal, as they’d actually spent very little time together as a bonded couple. They needed time together, so Will could adjust, still fighting this because he was against the idea of the arranged marriage. He was harboring that resentment and lashing out at Hannibal, who only wanted the best for him. As Jack did.

“Now, can I please talk to Will alone for a few minutes?” Alana asked, crossing her arms against her chest, and Jack resisted the urge to sigh or hit something. Either one sounded appealing right now.

“You have two minutes,” he said, and Alana stalked off, walking over to Will and gently touching his arm, introducing herself. They retreated to the other side of the room, taking a seat on the couch there, and Jack returned to Hannibal, who was watching them both avidly, seeming to be trying to read their lips or perhaps just use his heightened hearing to figure out what they were saying.

“Anything?” Jack asked, and Hannibal shook his head.

“I’m afraid they’re talking too quietly for me to hear,” he said, turning away from them to look at Jack. Jack could see the red mark forming on his face from where Will had slapped him, and let out a slow exhale through his nose, beyond frustrated with the uncooperative Omega.

“It’s alright, Jack,” Hannibal said, seeing where his gaze had landed. “He needs some more time. I shouldn’t have attempted to touch him as soon as I did, considering the mood he’s in. It was my mistake.”

“He should still know better than to hit you,” Jack said, half grumbling, and shook his head. “I thought he was better behaved than that.”

“He’s angry and upset, and I’m afraid that I can’t blame him. He’s always been resistant to me, and he just had his freedom back for a few months. He’s reluctant to return to married life, the chains of domesticity. Besides,” Hannibal said, and there was almost a sigh with his words. “There was another Alpha. One that perhaps he grew close to. Difficult to avoid, considering the circumstances they were under. As he said, simply because they didn’t have sex doesn’t mean that nothing happened between them. After all, Will is terrified of and repulsed by sex. Any type of intimacy that he shared with the Alpha would have been of a different nature, if it did happen.”

“You don’t think there was actually something going on between them, do you? He’s bonded to you,” Jack said, brow furrowed low over brown eyes.

Hannibal shrugged lightly, eyes returning to Will and Alana where they sat, absorbed in conversation. “I’m afraid I don’t know. I’d have to ask Will himself, but I doubt that he would tell me. Or he could simply lie to make me jealous, try to wound me. The only other thing to do would be to ask the Alpha himself. And that’s impossible, I’m afraid.”

***

Hannibal should have expected the hit, honestly. Should have seen it coming, should have known that Will wouldn’t be pleased if he touched him, but he’d been unable to avoid it, unable to stop himself from trying to reclaim what was his. Will stank of the other Alpha, more than he normally would if they just shared the same space. Which led Hannibal to the conclusion that they had shared more than space, a bed together, perhaps. Every night, judging from how powerful the scent was and how it clung to every part of Will, repulsing Hannibal’s delicate senses every time he came close to the Omega.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Will, contrary to your belief,” he said as soon as Jack wandered away to talk to the representative from the OCLC. “I care for you far too much for that.”

“Oh, so raping me and bonding me against my will doesn’t count as hurting me?” Will asked, tone bitter as he leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms. He was still in his pajamas, clearly not having had the time to change when they left the house for the next one, just before they got caught. Hannibal remembered the warm coffee cup he’d found in the kitchen, the way he’d imagined Will’s skin would feel, warm and welcoming, soft and inviting. But that was far from the truth. The Will in his imagination welcomed him in with warm skin and parted lips and soft eyes, and the Will of reality rebuffed him with hatred in his eyes and defensive posture meant to keep Hannibal at bay. What a shame the two would never meet.

He’d thought, he really had, that with time, Will would become what he wanted. Would accept his place by Hannibal’s side, start a family with him and maybe even grow to love him. It was becoming rapidly apparent that that was a dream, a fantasy. That Will would likely never love him, and Hannibal would have to break him and rebuild him if he was ever going to get anything he wanted. He didn’t want to break Will. He liked him as he was, defiance and all, fire and ice alike. He liked his tortured little empath, the one with nightmares that plagued him and a repulsion to sex and everything that came with it. He liked his asexual Omega; he was absolutely fascinating and Hannibal couldn’t get enough of him. But in order to get him to behave, he was going to have to break him. It had to be done.

They’d lapsed into silence, and the scent of the other Alpha was suddenly overwhelming to Hannibal, overtaking his delicate senses and forcing jealousy to curl around his brain like a snake about to squeeze its prey to death. He wanted to erase that scent, erase the other Alpha’s touch, his presence, make it so that all Will could see and breathe and feel was Hannibal on him, his touch and his scent and his presence. He reached forward, laying a gentle hand on Will’s arm, and it only took a second for Will to react. He slapped Hannibal fully across the face, physically turning Hannibal’s head to the side with enough force to no doubt leave a mark.

“Will!” he heard, Jack’s voice, a reprimand for Will, and turned to find Will glaring at him with a sapphire fire in his eyes.

“It’s perfectly alright, Jack. It’s my fault, I touched him before he was ready,” Hannibal said, keeping his eyes trained on the beautiful boy in front of him who’d just made his entire position clear. Not that it had really been in question before.

Jack seemed to be distracted by his conversation with Alana again, and Hannibal said, his voice calm, “I forgive you for that.”

“Yeah, well I don’t forgive you for anything,” Will said, pushing off the desk to stand at his full height, which wasn’t much shorter than Hannibal, and look him directly in the eyes, a quiet fire still blazing in his own. “And I don’t think I ever can. So if you want to continue this marriage, you’re going to have drag me into it, kicking and screaming. I will not cooperate with you, I will not be what you want, and I will never love you. If I could, I would kill you.”

Hannibal tilted his head slightly, as if this was a new and interesting fact for him, as if Will hadn’t already tried to kill him twice while trapped in this room. “How would you do it?” he asked, and Will looked at him, seeming surprised.

He didn’t answer for a minute, seeming to size Hannibal up, and then hissed, “With my hands. As close as we can get, so you have something happy to take to your grave.”

“How considerate of you,” Hannibal said, and Will’s eyes narrowed, sensing the slight morbid amusement in his tone and clearly not appreciating it.

Before he could answer, however, the woman from the OCLC was approaching, laying a gentle hand on his arm that Will nearly flinched at before relaxing slightly as she introduced herself. They wandered away to the couch on the other side of the room, and Hannibal turned to watch them, trying to hear the conversation or read their lips, a skill he hadn’t quite mastered yet. It was to no avail, and he turned to Jack as he approached to start a conversation.

Yes, Will no longer needed time. He needed something else entirely, needed to be broken apart and put back together again into a better, more pleasing shape. Hannibal loved him as he was, but they could never be happy with Will in the state he was currently—and permanently, it seemed—in. This state of complete disregard for those around him, for the happiness of others. Will was refusing to go along and get along, and Hannibal needed to show him again why that was necessary. That it was the only thing that he could do, was allowed to do. Will needed to be taught quite a few things, and Hannibal had effectively been volunteered as teacher. Well, he’d taken it upon himself, really, but as Will’s husband, it was his duty.’Til death do them part.

***

“Where’s Matthew?” were the first words out of Will’s mouth when he sat down with Alana on the couch, who gave him a small smile that held a hint of knowing in it that he didn’t like at all. There was nothing to know between him and Matthew, it wasn’t as if they were attached somehow. Bonded. They’d simply shared some time and a bed together, in the most platonic way, though Will now had reason to suspect that there had been more feelings involved than that on Matthew’s side. But whether Matthew did or did not feel something towards him was a question for another day; right now he just wanted an answer to his first question.

“He’s safe,” Alana said, her own voice dropped low so Hannibal wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop, though he seemed to be trying his hardest. “Don’t worry, the FBI didn’t manage to catch him. He’s with us.”

Oh thank god. The wave of relief that flooded Will’s chest was immense, immeasurable, imbruing him with a special kind of safety and security as he let it wash over him, lapping at the edges of his mind gently. Thank god. Matthew was alright, he could breathe easily again knowing that everything was going to be fine with him, that he was safe. And that he was still out there, still fighting on Will’s side, not locked up in a cell somewhere for false kidnapping charges. He was safe. From the FBI, from Jack, from Hannibal. Especially from Hannibal.

Alana was still talking and Will barely caught her words, something about ‘home’, ‘Dr. Lecter’, ‘lawsuit’, and ‘I’m sorry’.

“Wait, sorry for what?” he asked, and she sighed, looking down at her hands before cerulean eyes flashed back up to his own.

“Unfortunately, there’s nothing we can do at this time to separate you from Dr. Lecter. Legally, he has guardianship over you due to your marriage contract, and we can’t prove what he did to you. So you have to go home with him. Just for now.”

“Are you serious?” Will asked, and anger jumped into his tone, not for the first time today. “Are you really telling me that I have to go back ‘home’ with that—that monster and play house until the OCLC gets its shit together?”

“Will, if there was any other way, we’d be pursuing it,” Alana said in her best placating tone, but Will wasn’t about to be soothed. Not when his entire life was being put in danger again, allies failing him at a critical moment.  
“No, I can’t go home with him, I _won’t_ go home with him.”

“Will, please—”

But Will was already on his feet, storming his way back over to Hannibal, and Beverly and Jimmy had the good sense to head him off, Brian popping in a moment later to be the Alpha in the situation, though that wasn’t doing them much good. Will simply threw them all off, Jack catching sight of him at the last second and starting, “Hannibal—”

Hannibal turned just as Will threw the first punch, catching it squarely across his jaw and stumbling back a step from the sheer force that hatred lent to Will’s actions. In a second, pandemonium broke loose as agents scrambled to separate the two of them as Will continued his assault, doing his best to bloody that smug face if he possibly could. “Sedate him!” someone, maybe Jack, called, and in a minute Will felt the pinch of a needle in his neck, and began to slow down as velvety darkness wrapped itself around his eyes, blindfolding him to the outside world as he slowly sank down into unconsciousness.


	16. A is for Appanage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will wakes up to find himself home with Hannibal again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days, what craziness is this?? Honestly I have no idea how it happened, it just did. I listened half to Glass Animals while writing this and half to the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack, and somehow they both worked. Don't ask me.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_He was dancing. Not, like, regular dancing, but rather dancing like he’d done at his wedding, waltzing in time with music that had a strange, rather discordant melody, wrapping velvety dark strains around his ears, muffling outside noise as he listened to the music, waltzing along, not even questioning whose arms he was in. Perhaps that was why it was hard to hear at first the words that were floating towards him, like plumes of distant smoke. Suddenly, though, the noise caught up, and he was assaulted by a random cacophony of sounds before they arranged themselves into words._

_“He’s not going to give up, you know.”_

_Will looked up into those familiar green eyes, dark in the dim light of the room. Shadows were casting themselves over both of them, but he could still make out Matthew’s features, and of course, that voice…he’d recognize that voice anywhere. The lisp was absent, as it usually was, but Will could hear a hint of strain in his tone, something just slightly off about the voice. Stress, that was it. Matthew was speaking as if they had limited time and opportunity, like there was something listening in._

_Something was swimming in the darkness around the edges of the room, and Will turned to follow it with his eyes, seeing the brief glint of light across dark eyes but unable to make anything else out because it kept shifting, changing, and he was getting slightly dizzy from the waltz, but couldn’t stop. They couldn’t stop moving, he felt that with a certainty, or that thing in the dark was going to come out, he could tell. And that was the last thing either of them wanted._

_“Hannibal, you mean,” he said, his own voice soft, dropped low so as not to attract the attention of the thing in the darkness._

_“He sees you as his appanage, his right. He’s not going to stop because he doesn’t see a reason to.” Matthew spun him into a dip, leaning down to whisper his next words in Will’s ear. “You have to kill him.”_

_He pressed  a gentle kiss to Will’s cheek as Will stared at him, then suddenly he was upright again and they were continuing the waltz, never missing a beat, unlike Will’s actual wedding dance, when he’d needed Hannibal to guide him. Now it was Matthew’s turn, and Will was feeling more at ease than he had at the wedding, despite the conversation topic. Probably because he actually trusted the person across from him, lo—liked him. That was all. He liked Matthew, though whether romantically or otherwise remained to be seen. The fact that he was even considering it might be romantic was ridiculous, a preposterous thought. And yet…_

_“You loved me,” Will said with a frown, seeing no reason to beat around the bush, though he knew this wasn’t the real Matthew. It looked like him, it felt like him, but Matthew was always burning up, his own little internal furnace keeping him hot at all times, and this Matthew’s hands were like ice on his own. This wasn’t the real Matthew. But it was as close as he was going to get for the time being, and he had a few things to sort out._

_“I said you were special, Mr. Graham. What did you think I meant?” faux-Matthew asked, a hint of playfulness in his eyes._

_“I-I thought you meant that I was different from other Omegas you’d helped,” Will said, stumbling slightly over his words, matched by a slight hitch in the dance. The thing in the shadows turned its head in their direction, and he quickly got his bearings back, going back to the smooth movements they’d had before. It turned away again. “I didn’t think you meant it_ that _way.”_

_Matthew smiled at him, tilting his head slightly to the side, and spun him out, spinning him back into his chest with just a touch too much force, causing Will to put his hands up against Matthew’s chest in an effort not to whack into him. He looked up at Matthew a little helplessly as they simply swayed now, wrapped up in each other much in the way that they’d been wrapped up so many times in bed. In what Will hadn’t realized wasn’t quite a platonic way, feelings certainly intruding on Matthew’s side and possibly intruding on his own. It was hard to forget Matthew’s touch, erase the memory of each gentle slide of fingertips against his skin, each soft kiss laid on his cheek or hand or wrist or arm. God it should have been obvious at the time how Matthew felt, but Will had been so wrapped up in how good the affection felt that he hadn’t even noticed. He might not have experienced sexual attraction, but he certainly experienced sensual attraction, craved kissing and cuddling and soft touches and affection that he’d been denied most of his life. And Matthew, he was steadily realizing, was possibly the only person that he wanted that affection from._

_“I always say what I mean, Mr. Graham,” Matthew said, stepping back and resuming their previous positions, fluidly sweeping back into the waltz that Will couldn’t seem to get away from. He’d never particularly liked dancing, disliked the feeling of moving around in circles and never getting anywhere. That was sort of how this conversation felt, but maybe he was getting somewhere. He was at least realizing a few things about himself, and certainly about Matthew._

_Will looked down at their feet rather than into Matthew’s eyes, but this only made him dizzy and he didn’t want to look at that thing in the shadows, so instead he turned his eyes to the collar of Matthew’s white orderly jacket, finding it slightly ironic that someone like Matthew was wearing such a pure outfit. He didn’t know much about Matthew, but he certainly knew that there was a darkness inside of him, something that lurked behind those green eyes and only rarely showed its true face. It wasn’t the same kind of darkness that lurked in Hannibal; same species, different breed. And Will trusted Matthew’s breed much more._

_“I don’t think you do,” he said, eyes flashing back up to Matthew’s, and Matthew offered him a small grin._

_“You’re right, I don’t,” he said. “But I never lied to you.” He leaned in to kiss Will, and Will closed his eyes, anticipating it, but instead of firm lips pressed against his own, he felt something liquid, something wet. His tongue darted out to touch it and came away with the taste of blood, and abruptly, he opened his eyes, just as someone started tsking softly._

_“I’m afraid he’s right, you know. I do believe you are my right.”_

_Oh no. Oh no, oh no oh no oh no oh no—Will lifted his eyes slowly, skipping over the burgundy tie he recognized from the day they’d first officially met when he was an adult and moving straight to those familiar maroon eyes. Hannibal offered him a small smile, all grace and ease as he continued the dance that Matthew had started, waltzing effortlessly with Will. Will tried to pull back and was prevented by a growl from the shadows, whatever was lurking there turning its attention towards them once again. He continued dancing and it turned away once more, continuing to circle the room, languidly, lazily drifting through the darkness that surrounded them. The only light provided in the room was from a single bulb above them, and as soon as Hannibal had appeared, it’d started flickering._

_“I’m not your anything,” Will growled back, his posture tight, tense with his anger._

_Hannibal reached out with the hand that had been on Will’s waist, gently cupping his cheek with it. “You’re my everything.”_

_Jesus Christ. Will looked at him in shock for a minute, not realizing that they’d stopped moving. The thing in the dark had stopped as well, a faint growling coming from the corner it’d curled up in. Will watched as Hannibal reached up to take hold of the string connected to the one light in the room, too stunned to move, to react._

_“Goodbye, Will,” he said softly, and pulled the string, plunging the room into darkness._

Will jolted awake just as the sensation of teeth being plunged into his flesh took over the dream, expecting to find Matthew’s strong arms wrapped around him, his comforting warmth to be pressed up against his back. Instead, he found himself in a cold and unfamiliar bed in a room that screamed guest room, and whose guest room, he could guess. The touch of quiet opulence—just a touch—and delicate balance of wealth and class let him know exactly where he was. In Hannibal’s house, in one of his guest rooms. Of course, because it’d be too much to ask for an escape route, for his allies to actually come through and rescue him. The OCLC could only do so much, as Alana had said, and right now they were apparently doing all they could. Though it did leave him wondering what Matthew was doing right now.

He sat up slowly, head spinning from the aftereffects of…of what, exactly? What had happened before he got here? He didn’t quite remember at the moment, still awash in horror from the nightmare and having trouble wrapping his head around anything. At least he knew where he was, and he was still wearing all his clothes, though his shoes had been removed. It meant that there had been minimal touching, and right now, that was what he wanted. The only person he would have welcomed a touch from was Matthew, and he was god knew where right now. Everyone else could kindly keep their hands off of him. Especially Hannibal.

After a minute, his head had stopped spinning enough that he could stand, shakily making his way to the door. Outside he could hear the quiet murmur of voices, subtle sounds muffled through the door, almost in the same way sounds had been muffled in his nightmare, though it had been the music covering it there. Discordant strains that his memory couldn’t grasp at the moment, fading away like most figments of dreams did once the dream was done. That was good, anyway. He didn’t want to remember the strange, disconcerting melody from his dream that he’d been forced to dance to, with two diverse partners, a dichotomy he didn’t want to think about. Because it didn’t make him feel any better about his situation. Nothing did.

He hesitantly pushed the door open, stepping out into the hall, the floor cool underneath his feet. He could hear the voices more acutely now, and that increased as he stepped closer to the source of the noise, padding quietly down the hallway so as not to draw attention to himself. The voices were growing more distinct, until he could make out Hannibal’s mellifluous tones, and Jack’s somewhat firmer, brasher voice. A feminine voice entered as well, anger present in it, and he recognized it as Alana’s voice. Good, she was here. An ally was here for him.

The sounds appeared to be coming from the kitchen, and that made sense to him. That was where Hannibal would feel the most powerful, his true domain, the place that he truly ruled over more than anywhere else in the house. And of course, while talking to Alana and Jack, two Betas that he would want to try to exert influence over, he would want to be in the place he felt the most powerful. With Alphas, and especially with Hannibal, it was all about power.

He rounded the corner into the kitchen hesitantly, not keen to reveal his presence but knowing it wasn’t really avoidable. Hannibal was liable to catch his scent soon anyway, a suspicion that was confirmed as he found Hannibal’s eyes already on him as he rounded the corner. Alana and Jack took a moment to follow Hannibal’s gaze, relief in Alana’s eyes and a tension entering Jack’s posture.

“Will. It’s good to see you up and about,” Hannibal said, a small, pleased smile on his lips that Will wanted to punch off. But now was not the time for that, not when he was in Hannibal’s domain. He had to be careful here.

“How are you feeling?” Alana asked, voice soft, which his still sensitive ears appreciated. He had a feeling Jack wouldn’t be so accommodating, and was glad that the other man seemed too agitated to speak at the moment.

“Fine,” Will answered, keeping his answer short and his eyes on her, off of Hannibal, who he knew was probably starving for eye contact. “Little bit sick.”

Hannibal turned away, heading to the cabinet as he said, “I’m not surprised, you were hit with quite the tranquilizer. Let me get you some water.”

He filled a glass as Will risked a glance at him, catching sight of his back as he stood at the sink. That was enough for him to see, and he turned back to Alana, whose brow was pinched in the middle, concern in her eyes. Good to see someone who was actually concerned about him, for the first time in how long? Well, there had been Beverly, but he still counted her as on Hannibal’s side considering that she was part of the taskforce that had helped to bring Will back in. He had few true allies, and one of them was standing in this kitchen, one was missing, and the other he could only see in his dreams. For now.

Hannibal held the glass out to him and for a moment, Will simply stared at it before accepting it and taking a drink, the water sliding coolly down his throat. It was a relief, honestly, as he swallowed nearly the entire glass in just a few gulps, feeling much better, a little less nauseous. Still, overall he wasn’t feeling stellar, and now he remembered why. The sedative. He’d never liked being sedated, always resented being forced into unconsciousness, having his own free will being taken from him. It seemed that that was always the case, wasn’t it? He was always the one without power, always the one bending to someone else’s will. Just like a true Omega. His stomach twisted sickly at the thought and he finished his water, handing the glass back to Hannibal. Hannibal’s fingers brushed against his for just a moment, and Will quickly pulled his hand back, refusing to meet Hannibal’s eyes.

“I take it my presence here means we lost the fight,” he said, turning back to Alana, who smiled grimly.

“Ms. Bloom will be checking in on you on a monthly basis. That way the OCLC is happy, Hannibal is happy with you back in his house, and you’re happy because you’ve managed to disrupt everyone’s lives,” Jack said, and Will was surprised and pleased by the level of volume that his voice was at; carefully controlled, so his anger wouldn’t be as visible when it was already obvious from miles away. Will didn’t need his empathy to see that.

“And I take it you’re the only one not happy?” he asked, a slight hint of amusement in his tone, and Jack took a step towards him, opening his mouth to speak, but was prevented by a simple, “Jack,” from Hannibal.

He stepped back again, closing his mouth as Hannibal said, “I believe it may be best if Will and I are left alone now. We have quite a bit of catching up to do.”

No, no, no, that wasn’t what he wanted at all, and Alana seemed to be picking up on that, but the look in her eyes told him there was nothing that she could do. As it was, it’d probably taken some amazing debate skills to get it so that she could check up on him on a monthly basis, and he was honestly lucky for that. To have someone actively invested in his welfare, someone who could intervene if something went wrong…god, it was unbelievable. It was a lot more than he’d expected, and he was still in more than a little bit of amazement. This meant that Hannibal couldn’t mate with him again, couldn’t force himself on him in an attempt to get him to bear a child, or would risk the consequences of Will being taken away from him by the OCLC on the grounds of abuse. He was…well, still not free, but protected. Protected while his allies worked on setting him free permanently.

“I’m afraid I’ve intruded enough already,” Alana said, and Will’s heart sank, knowing that was her way of excusing herself from the situation. Because she had no other choice. She straightened up, offering her hand to Jack first, who refused it, and then to Hannibal, who took it delicately in his own and shook it, his own hand nearly dwarfing hers. “I’ll see you in a month, Dr. Lecter.”

“Yes, I look forward to it,” Hannibal said, offering her a smile, and Will resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Hannibal led both Jack and Alana to the door, Will remaining in the kitchen to get himself another glass of water. He didn’t need to see his only ally leaving him alone and trapped, it would only depress him and remind him of his current situation, something he was already acutely aware of.

He was standing at the sink, getting a third glass of water in an attempt to wash the bitter taste out of his mouth when he heard, “It’s wonderful to see you here again.”

He gritted his teeth, turning around to find Hannibal standing in the entranceway to the kitchen, effectively blocking his way out, his suit jacket off for once, his posture relaxed. He truly did seem happy to have Will here, but was that any surprise? He’d been trying to get him back here for months, and finally succeeded, trapping Will once again like a dog caught in a bear trap. Only Will couldn’t gnaw his own leg off to escape.

“It’s not wonderful to be back,” he said, sipping at his glass of water again. “I wish I was anywhere else right now.”

“With Matthew?”

“You’re awfully preoccupied with whether I want to be somewhere with Matthew or not,” he said, his tone slightly mocking but predominantly amused because finally, finally, he had something to hold over Hannibal. Something to bother the fuck out of him, disturb and disconcert him on some level. He finally had some power in this situation, and oh, he was going to abuse the fuck out of it. Keep Hannibal guessing as to what had happened, how far things had gone.

“Can you blame me? My mate was with another Alpha, and as you said, you didn’t have to have sex for something to happen between the two of you. My question is simply what did happen.”

Will gave him a full smile and didn’t say a word, finishing off the rest of his glass of water. Hannibal looked at him for a moment longer before looking down as he smoothed his waistcoat with his hand. “I see,” he said, voice crisp, curt, and god did that feel good. Hurting Hannibal always felt good.

“If you think I’m going to account for every second of my time with Matthew, I’m not going to. What happened between us is…private.”

And ah, there it was, that displeased little twist to Hannibal’s mouth as Will twisted the knife in just a little deeper, drew just a little bit more blood. Will’s smile widened into a smirk that Hannibal caught as his maroon eyes flashed back up to Will’s face, and Will did nothing to try and tone it down. Hannibal had a right to know how he felt, after all.

“It’s good to have you home, Will,” he said, a small, tight smile gracing his own lips, and Will’s smirk disappeared at the reminder of where he was trapped now. Where he was trapped indefinitely. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to start preparing dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to let everyone know that I'm taking prompts for (short) drabbles on my [tumblr](http://disassociatedtinman.tumblr.com/) for Hannigram, Brownham, or Spacedogs. So if you've got anything, send it my way! Thanks!


	17. A is for Affliction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will works to survive Hannibal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, okay, apparently I'm on a writing roll recently because this happened far more quickly than it should have, so I hope you guys enjoy it! The lyrics used in this chapter come from the song Breezeblocks by Alt-J.

_She may contain the urge to run away_   
_But hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks_   
_Cetirizine your **fever** 's gripped me again_   
_Never kisses—all you ever send are full stops, la, la, la_

***

“What is this?” Will asked, brow furrowed as he chewed over his first bite of the soup that Hannibal had made for their first dinner “back together”.

“Bosintang. It’s a Korean dish, typically eaten in the summer to balance the body’s heat. I thought I should make you something special for your return however, and this dish came to mind. Do you like it?”

Will didn’t address the question, taking another bite of the meat in the dish, brow furrowing a little deeper. “What meat is in this? I’ve never tasted anything like it before.”

Hannibal picked up his wineglass, swirling it for a moment and taking a sniff of it. “Dog,” he answered a moment later, and took a calm sip of his wine.

Will choked on his food, immediately spitting the bite that he’d taken back into his bowl, coughing for a minute as Hannibal watched him calmly.

“Specifically Nureongi, a breed specially raised for meat consumption in Korea. Don’t spit out your food, Will, it’s very rude to the chef.”

“And it’s fucking inhumane for the chef to feed me dog,” Will spat, turning to glare at Hannibal, who simply took another bite of his food, causing Will to shudder as he watched him chew and swallow. “How the fuck could you do that to me?”

It was a simple answer to the question, really, and Will already knew it. This was punishment. This was Hannibal punishing him for running away, taking something he knew Will loved and turning it into something that he was now expected to eat. He couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t do it, wouldn’t succumb to this and give Hannibal what he wanted. He’d rather starve than eat this, this—this—mockery of what food should actually be. Hannibal knew how much he loved dogs, and this was his sick version of a punishment. That fucker.

Will pushed the bowl away from himself, Hannibal’s eyes watching the motion of the bowl. That maroon gaze flicked back up to Will’s eyes, though Will refused to look back at him, too angry to even speak anymore.

“You have to eat it, Will,” he said, his voice completely even, relaxed, not even showing a hint of tension. He was completely calm about this, Will couldn’t even believe it. How the fuck could he do this so calmly, how could he still be eating it himself? Did he honestly just care so little about what he put into his mouth? Or was he that committed to trying new things, to eating exotic foods? It really raised the question of what else Hannibal had eaten, what other taboos he’d ignored in his culinary quests. Will wasn’t sure he even wanted to know the answer to that.

“I don’t have to do shit,” Will said angrily, still avoiding Hannibal’s eyes because he knew how much the other man enjoyed eye contact with him. He’d already noticed that there was nothing sharp laid out on the table, that they were specifically eating a dish that required only chopsticks and a spoon, a careful precaution on Hannibal’s part considering Will had already expressed homicidal intent numerous times before. It was smart; what wasn’t smart was trying to feed Will his favorite animal.

“You do have to. Or I will force you to eat it through a feeding tube if I have to. It won’t taste nearly as good blended.”

The threat was stated incredibly serenely, like Hannibal was actually looking forward to force-feeding him. Jesus Christ. Will felt physically ill, wanted to vomit up the little food that he’d already eaten, but that wasn’t an option. Just like not eating was apparently not an option. Because he didn’t doubt for a second that Hannibal would do it, that he was hiding a feeding tube somewhere in this monstrous house.

So he swallowed down his revulsion—a nearly impossible task, as it was threatening to drown him—and continued to eat, Hannibal’s eyes on him and a small, pleased little smirk on the other man’s lips. He truly was a bastard, but what had Will expected? Apparently Hannibal had decided that he wanted to punish Will more than he wanted to win him over, trying to strike that delicate balance between jailor and loving husband. Will wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t this. Dog. Jesus Christ.

Hannibal returned to his food after a minute, and Will pushed his own around, trying to avoid the pieces of no longer mystery meat in it, though the entire thing was saturated with it at this point. There was no avoiding it. “Eat your protein too, it’s good for you,” Hannibal said, and Will reluctantly chewed over another piece of dog, nearly gagging on it. Hannibal watched him with apparent amusement, altogether too pleased with himself for devising this particular punishment, but oh, Will wasn’t out of the game yet. He wasn’t that easily subdued.

“No matter what you feed me, it won’t change what happened between Matthew and I,” he said, and delighted in the way that Hannibal’s jaw tightened, almost imperceptibly. Good.

“I don’t believe anything did happen,” Hannibal said, taking a sip of his wine, a very bold lie. If he truly believed that nothing had happened, he wouldn’t be so bothered by even just the mention of Matthew’s name.

“Oh, you think I’m lying to make you jealous,” Will said, and for once, he was the one smirking, even as he looked down at his food, another wave of nausea rolling through him upon contemplating eating any more. He knew that Hannibal wouldn’t settle for anything less than finishing it, and he wasn’t sure that he could. He’d probably throw up before doing that. A thought crossed his mind and he laughed softly to himself, picking up his glass of wine.

“What is it that you find so amusing, Will?” Hannibal asked, pausing in his eating, his eyes still on Will. Always, it seemed, on Will. He looked slightly irritated at the moment though, like maybe Will was actually getting to him, and Will looked up at him, smiling broadly.

He paused with his wineglass halfway to his lips, shaking his head for a moment. “You,” he answered, and took a sip of his wine, the only thing that was going to get him through the night. The only thing that could wash the taste of dog out of his mouth. “You, Hannibal. You amuse me more than anything else right now.”

“And why is that?” Hannibal asked evenly, and Will shook his head, taking another sip of his wine before setting the glass down. He didn’t answer the question, returning to his food, eating it a little more easily now that he had a thought to tide him over. Something to return to, to turn over in his mind instead of focusing on what he was currently putting into his mouth.

After a minute, he paused again in his eating, chewing over a piece of the meat slowly, having trouble swallowing it down. “Do you intend to decorticate me, Dr. Lecter?” he asked when he finally had, stirring his food with his spoon rather than looking at Hannibal, though he noted the slight tightening to Hannibal’s lips from the use of his formal title, always a small wound that Will could inflict. Hannibal wanted them to be as close as possible, well that was going to be difficult when Will was still referring to him by his formal title, something that pained Hannibal every time it happened. For someone who was so unexpressive, Hannibal was very easily wounded by certain things. Will just had to figure out what things.

“Do you mean that in the surgical sense or the literal definition of the word?” Hannibal asked, picking up his glass to take a sip, eyes temporarily off of Will.

“Doesn’t matter. Either way, you plan to cut into me,” Will said, voice slightly bitter, that edge coming back into it that had only left for a moment and temporarily let amusement warm its seat while it was gone. Now it was back in full force, because Will knew where Hannibal was going with this. What he planned to do with him, or at least the gist of it. There really was only one thing that Hannibal could do if he wanted his happy little family with Will; break him.

“Haven’t you ever heard the expression, if you love something, let it go?” he asked, turning to Hannibal, who looked up from his food, their eyes meeting for a brief second before Will slid his own to Hannibal’s tie.

“I’m afraid that if I did let you go, you wouldn’t come back to me, and I would lose you. And that’s unthinkable to me.”

Will always felt physically ill whenever Hannibal talked about how much he cared for Will, how much he loved him, and this was no exception. He reached for his wine again to wash the taste of both Hannibal’s words and the meal itself out of his mouth, draining most of what was left in the glass, which wasn’t much, at this point. Hannibal got up and a brief fluttering of panic went through Will’s heart before he realized he was grabbing the wine bottle to refill Will’s glass, which Will was begrudgingly grateful for. He was going to need plenty of wine to get him through tonight, though he wasn’t stupid enough to get plastered around Hannibal. God only knew what would happen then. He’d wake up tied to a bed or something equally as horrible, maybe waking up being fed something worse than dog this time.

“That’s kind of the point. If you love something, you let it go. If it comes back to you, it loves you too. If it doesn’t, well…you’ll notice I didn’t come back on my own, Dr. Lecter.”

“Please call me Hannibal, we are married, after all,” Hannibal said, unable to keep the slight hints of pain out of his tone. Good. Will was out to draw blood tonight and would settle for nothing less. “And I understand your reluctance, Will. If I was in your position, I’m sure I would feel the same. But at some point, you have to realize that your circumstances aren’t liable to change. And then you must adapt to survive.”

That was a thinly veiled threat if Will had ever heard one, and he snorted softly at it, knowing Hannibal was entirely serious but still not putting much stock into the threat. Hannibal was limited in the ways that he could harm Will, considering both his own emotional limitations and Alana’s now monthly interference. He wouldn’t outright physically harm Will for numerous reasons, and doing things like feeding him dog didn’t count enough as abuse that Alana could interfere. Hannibal had to toe a careful line in his punishment of Will, and Will still wasn’t sure what was in store for him. He should have been scared, but instead he was just angry, waiting for it to be over with so he could endure, could prove to Hannibal that he was tougher than he seemed and that he wouldn’t bend to Hannibal’s desires.  He wouldn’t bend, and he certainly wouldn’t break.

“So to answer your question, I don’t intend to decorticate you. I intend to change you.”

Will was silent for a moment, looking down into the soup that he was halfway through and was sure he couldn’t finish. “I’m not trying to survive you, Hannibal. I’m looking to thrive.” His eyes flashed up to Hannibal’s, who looked at him for a moment, seeming to be studying him in that almost soul-searching way he had.

“Very well then,” Hannibal said after a moment, and raised his glass. “May the best man win.”

Will smiled sardonically, and clinked his glass against Hannibal’s.

That night he was violently ill, hunched over the toilet in the bathroom near the guest bedroom he’d be staying in for the time being. To be honest, it was probably from the soup, though it seemed to be more than simply his revulsion towards it making him spit it back up. Maybe Hannibal had actually given him bad meat, maybe this was part of the punishment as well, though there seemed to be genuine concern in Hannibal’s voice when he called through the locked bathroom door to see how Will was doing. He must have heard Will retching from down the hall in the master bedroom, because Will certainly hadn’t gone to get him, had actively chosen to lock him out because the last thing he needed was his influence. He’d suffer through this on his own, thank you very much.

So he stayed that way for most of the night, getting fitful sleep against the cold tile floor and occasionally waking up to vomit, though eventually his stomach was empty and he merely dry retched into the toilet, stomach and chest hurting with every movement while Hannibal begged him to let him in from the other side of the door. When he finally emerged in the morning, he found Hannibal on the other side, propped up against the wall by the door and sleeping there, clearly having stayed there the entire night. It would have been sweet, if he was anyone else. If he was Matthew, maybe. Then again, if it’d been Matthew, he would have let him in in the first place. The Alpha had swum through his dreams last night, appearing in shadowy corners to whisper encouraging words in his ear and then disappearing again before Will could lay hold of him. Hannibal had been present as well, but Will tried not to think about those parts of the dream. He tried not to think about a lot.

Hannibal stirred when the door opened, and Will was quick to slip out of the room, not wanting a confrontation when he was still feeling sick to his stomach. The sun was just beginning to slant through the windows, casting shadows on the floor that he stepped through as he looked for an empty bed somewhere, anywhere, just somewhere that he could try and sleep off the rest of this sickness. But the only empty bed he could find was in the master bedroom, and, well…oh, fuck it. He’d sleep here for now, didn’t matter if Hannibal found him at this point. He just needed some goddamn rest. He sank down into the bed, pulling the covers over himself and closing weary, dry eyes, and slipped into a restless sleep.

***

_She bruises, coughs, she splutters pistol shots_   
_Hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks_   
_She's **morphine** , queen of my vaccine_   
_My love, my love, love, love, la, la, la_

***

Three days and he still wasn’t better. It hadn’t gotten easier after the first night; oh no, things had gotten worse. He was throwing up less per day, but he still couldn’t keep anything down, not even Saltines, and now had a fever in addition. He was basically confined to bed, Hannibal forcing him to stay in place while giving him a steady supply of ginger ale and moving the TV so he could watch it while laid up, though things made little sense to him in his fevered state. It was hard for him to understand much, actually, beyond the fact that everything hurt and ached and he was hot, hot, so hot, burning up, and yet Hannibal wouldn’t let him take the covers off, insisting that he leave them on to “sweat out the fever”. Will didn’t care about that, he just wanted to feel goddamn cool again. Even cold, he’d be happy if he was cold. Freezing sounded better than feeling like there was a fire underneath his skin.

On the second day, he tried getting up on his own and ended up fainting halfway to the bathroom, where Hannibal found him, having crawled the rest of the way only to lay down on the cool tile floor because it felt nice. Hannibal picked him back up far too easily and carried him back to bed, not letting him up by himself after that, even though Will insisted he could do it.

On the fourth day, Hannibal let him take an ice bath, though he had to help him strip down and get into it, which would have been humiliating, if Will even had enough of his mind left to care about that. All he cared about at the moment was getting into that cool, inviting water, finally relieving some of the aching in his body. It was just as wonderful as he’d imagined it would be, and stayed in as long as Hannibal would allow him, feeling refreshed for hours afterwards as his body steadily, but slowly, heated back up. Then nothing would help, and he squirmed on the bed like he was in heat, uncomfortable in his own skin and only having Hannibal for company, who was doing his best to look after his rather reluctant patient.

It started out slowly at first, so slowly that Will barely noticed it happening. At first it was a gentle hand on his brow checking his temperature, a soft clasping of his wrist to take his pulse. Then it was a light kiss dotted on the top of his head, or the inside of his wrist, until Hannibal grew bold enough to kiss his cheek, at which point Will started noticing the affection he was being given. It progressed from there, soft touches and gentle kisses and finally Hannibal staying in the bed with him, pulling Will to his chest and stroking his hair gently to comfort him, and if Will wasn’t sick as a dog he would have been furious, would have pulled away and yelled at Hannibal for getting as close as he was. As it was, he was soothed by the contact, allowing himself to close his eyes and enjoy the stroking of his hair, the gentle petting from Hannibal eventually soothing him to sleep.

He hated himself for it, in the moments of lucidity between feverish episodes. He knew that this was giving up, giving in, giving Hannibal exactly what he wanted, but he couldn’t help it. He felt so goddamn sick that he would take any form of affection and comfort, anything he could get to make himself feel even a little bit better. And that was what Hannibal was providing. Comfort, and he knew exactly what he was doing to Will. Trying to get him through a special form of Stockholm Syndrome, kill him with kindness while at the same time being the source of his misery.

Because it only took Will a week to realize what was going on. Hannibal was poisoning him.

***

_She may contain the urge to run away_   
_But hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks_   
_Germolene, **disinfect** the scene_   
_My love, my love, love, love_   
_But please don't go, I love you so, my lovely_

***

“Will, I’m sorry, but there’s no proof that he’s doing this to you.” Alana’s face was concerned, brow pinched in the middle as she looked at Will, who was propped up in the bed, in a sitting position with plenty of pillows behind him to keep him up because he still had trouble staying sitting up for long periods of time. He had trouble doing anything for long periods of time.

He’d been sick for weeks now, with no end in sight to the misery that was being inflicted on him. The affliction had changed, evolved, and he could now keep some foods down, mostly chicken broth and Saltines, and the fever had broken, only to return again, then break, and now he was expecting it to swing back around again soon because it kept him weak and that was what Hannibal wanted, after all. He was feeling somewhat better right now for his meeting with Alana, though he was still incredibly fatigued and had trouble keeping his eyes open for more than a few minutes. He was exhausted, wrung-out, and most importantly, pliable to Hannibal’s affections, though the more lucid he was, the more likely he was to refuse those affections, push Hannibal away weakly, even if that didn’t always work. It was worth the effort.

“There must be something, I’ve been sick for weeks, Alana. This isn’t a normal illness,” Will said, frustration evident in his tone and the way that he clenched the sheets in his fists, twisting them in his hands as he spoke and listened to her.

Alana sighed, lifting her hands up slightly, palms up, then letting them drop into her lap again, indicating that she had no answer for him. “He even let us search the house. There was absolutely nothing, Will. No evidence to indicate that he could be poisoning you in any way. We’re going to have a doctor from our organization come in and check on you since we don’t trust the doctor Hannibal brought in, but otherwise…there’s nothing we can do. There’s just no proof.”

“Well you better fucking find proof,” Will said, raising his voice slightly, though it only triggered a fit of coughing that lasted for a few minutes, Alana looking at him with pity in her eyes. He hated that pity. "He’s doing this, I know he is,” he said quietly when he could finally speak again, and Alana nodded, blue eyes sympathetic, always sympathetic.

“I believe you, Will, I do. But unless there’s evidence, there’s nothing we can do. We’ll see what the doctor has to say.”

The doctor wasn’t going to find shit, Will already knew that. Hannibal had made it so it seemed that Will was getting better when the OCLC doctor visited, who pronounced it to be a particularly virulent strain of stomach flu and said that Will would get better with time, as he had been, though he was still weak and woozy most of the time, although he could now stand and walk around by himself.

That didn’t last. After about a week of feeling better, Will slipped back into a heavy fever and vomiting, feeling worse than he had the first time, and of course who was there to take care of him but Hannibal, who was incredibly attentive, apparently having taken the time off of work to be beside Will nearly all day every day, making sure that he was well looked after and had everything he needed.

“Please stop doing this to me,” Will moaned in the middle of one of his feverish episodes, and Hannibal paused where he was mopping sweat off of Will’s nearly dripping brow.

“Doing what to you?” he asked evenly, not even a hint of deception in his tone as he resumed his previous task, and Will weakly swatted his hand away. Hannibal caught his hand, wrapping fingers around his wrist to take his pulse and tsking softly when he did. “Not good. We might have to call the doctor again.”

“Like the doctor’s going to do shit,” Will said, having trouble getting the words out in his current state where nothing felt quite real, everything having a slightly dreamlike quality to it. “You’re the only one that can end this. What do you want, Hannibal?”

Hannibal seemed pleased by the use of his first name, but he didn’t answer for a minute, kissing Will’s palm gently, eyes locked to his. “I want you as you are now. Wholly mine,” he said, and kissed Will’s forehead.

***

_Please don't go, I'll eat you_ **whole**   
_I love you so, I love you so, I love you so_   
_Please don't go I'll eat you whole_   
_I love you so, I love you so, I love you so, I love you so_

***

He was hallucinating. He thought he was, at least, because that was what he did a lot now, along with nearly fainting when he tried to sit up. He had to be hallucinating, because he could see a familiar pair of green eyes floating next to the bed, his fevered haze making it difficult to make out anything but the eyes, until his vision cleared slightly and he saw the face that belonged to them, the face that he’d missed so much.

“It’ll be alright,” a soothing voice said, and he felt a touch to his forehead, pushing back sweat-soaked curls. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

A soft kiss was brushed over his forehead, and Will’s eyes slipped shut under the contact. When he opened them later, the haze had cleared and he found himself alone, unable to remember what he’d seen or heard during his perceived hallucination. He just remembered the murmur of a soft voice and the feeling of relief that accompanied it, the feeling that he still felt now. Comfort, and a sense of safety, independent of Hannibal. He wanted it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that I'm taking requests for Hannigram, Brownham, and Spacedogs on my [tumblr](http://disassociatedtinman.tumblr.com/) if you're interested! I'm also currently accepting commissions, if you're interested you can contact me on my tumblr or email me at the email address on my profile. Thank you for reading!


	18. A is for Assure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will receives some unexpected help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, okay, so this is officially longer than the manuscript for my novel. I have written a novel length fanfic. I hope you're all enjoying it.

His heat was close. He could feel it, a special kind of warmth underneath the fever that was burned into his bones, a different type of affliction that was coming down on him rapidly, and it terrified him. He was still sick, still weakened and dependent on Hannibal for nearly everything, so what the fuck was going to happen when his heat came? It would be all too easy for Hannibal to force him into something when he was in this state, fevered and delusional and completely at his mercy. If Will claimed that Hannibal raped him, Hannibal could pass it off as a delusion, a fever dream, and if it turned out Will was pregnant, well, by that point it would be too late. Pregnant Omegas had even fewer rights than married Omegas, most of their lives controlled at that point by the father of the child. Just like Will’s life would be controlled by Hannibal if Hannibal managed to impregnate him.

At that point the OCLC wouldn’t be able to separate them because it could “harm the development of the child” or some such nonsense. And an abortion was right out of the question. They were nearly impossible to get under other circumstances, and completely out of the question for married Omegas that were supposed to be happily bonded. Which Will wasn’t, but that wouldn’t matter. All that mattered was the bonding mark on his neck, the scar left over from Hannibal. What Will wouldn’t do to erase it…If it came down to having to bond with someone else to get rid of it, he honestly would. He just wanted that reminder of Hannibal’s ‘ownership’ of him off of his body.

But right now he couldn’t focus on that. Right now it was hard to focus on anything, the fever making his thoughts scatter every time he managed to gather them back together, drifting in and out of hallucinations that left him alternately soothed and terrified, depending upon their nature. Occasionally he would see Matthew’s green eyes, only to see them swallowed up by darkness again, an all-consuming darkness that would suffocate him, cutting off his breathing until he opened his eyes with a gasp and found himself alone again. Or with Hannibal, who more often than not was next to him nowadays.

He claimed that it was so he could more easily care for Will, but Will knew the truth. Hannibal was slowly wearing him down, getting him addicted to affection and used to the comfort that Hannibal provided, the comfort that he so desperately needed when all he felt was sick all the time, steadily getting worn out by his illness to the point that he didn’t care if it was Hannibal giving him affection. Would he even care what Hannibal did during his heat?

Maybe that was the whole point. Wear him down so he approached this whole thing in an incredible state of apathy, not caring anymore what Hannibal did to him. It was a specific form of breakdown, a breakdown without really having one. Breaking Will apart while leaving him mostly intact. Sure, the apathy would wear off along with the illness, but at that point, Will would be hopefully saddled with a child and therefore unable to run away or cry abuse. God, Hannibal really had thought this through. He’d thought it through, and he’d found the easiest way to get Will to do what he wanted.

Only Will wasn’t going to do what he wanted, he refused to bend to Hannibal’s will that way. He wasn’t going to give Hannibal what he wanted, even if he had to crawl out of this bed and out the door, still afflicted with a fever and feeling like he was dying. Better than the slow death of spirit that would come from letting Hannibal do what he wanted, giving in to his demands, even just tacitly. Lying by and letting it happen was just as bad as actively participating. So somehow, he would get himself out of this. Somehow.

“Will.”

Will sluggishly dragged himself out of his fevered haze to look at the woman next to his bed, her features coming together slowly, finally forming a familiar face. “Beverly,” he said softly, and tried to get himself up into a sitting position, moving on shaky arms.

“No, you don’t have to—” she started, but stopped, biting her lip as Will did it anyway, managing to fully sit up and look at her, though it made him feel woozy. She leaned in a bit closer, voice dropping low as she cast a glance at the door. “Will, we don’t have a lot of time.”

“Time for what?” Will asked, head slightly clearer at the tone of her voice, the tension in it that he could pick out despite his sickness.

She hesitated, looking down at her hands before warm brown eyes flashed back up to his. “I think you’re right about Hannibal. That he’s dangerous. I think…” She cast another glance at the door, then leaned in to whisper in Will’s ear, “I think he’s responsible for more than just the OCLC killings.” She pulled back again, and Will’s full attention was on her, hyperaware of every movement she made as she brushed her hair back behind her ear, long lashes brushing against her cheek as she blinked. Time seemed to be slowing down, and he could only stare for a moment, fevered brain still trying to process her words but knowing that they were important.

Oh. _Oh_. Everything clicked into place at once and his shoulders slumped with relief, a soft sigh escaping his lips because Jesus Christ, _finally_. Finally someone got it, understood what he’d been saying from the very beginning and actually _believed him_. Someone who was actually in a position to do something about it, not someone like Alana who was a figurehead and little more. Beverly had power, she was directly connected to Jack and a well-respected member of the forensics team at the FBI, if she believed something was going on, she actually had an opportunity to prove it. And that was beyond anything that Will had hoped for. He’d never thought he’d manage to get Beverly on his side, not after how it’d seemed that she’d fallen for Hannibal’s charms just like everyone else, but apparently that wasn’t quite true. She’d seen past Hannibal’s persuasive nature and actually seen him for what he was, and thank god for that. Will could always use another ally.

“What changed your mind?” he asked, nearly rasping the words out, throat dry as he swallowed in an effort to soothe the sandpaper forming its walls. Bev handed him a glass of water, which he gratefully accepted, downing most of it before nodding to indicate she should continue.

She sighed, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees, rubbing her hands together nervously for a moment. Beverly wasn’t one to be anxious about nearly anything, and the fact that she was now was a sure sign that this was serious, that she was completely spooked by whatever was going on. By the knowledge she’d just gained. “Okay, so I was going over the Ripper files because we haven’t had a break in that case in ages and Jack’s getting up our asses about it because it’s been seriously bad lately, like, _Carrie_ levels of bloodbaths, and I noticed something weird. Well, weirder than the usual Ripper stuff, which says a lot considering what this guy’s done to his victims before.”

“Bev, get to the point,” Will reminded gently, and Beverly nodded, getting back on track.

“So you know how the Ripper takes his trophies, right? Usually some sort of organ, whatever, and then displays the body in whatever grotesque flavor of the month he feels like? Well, the OCLC victims were pretty much intact, except for one. Shayna Wilkinson was practically the head of the organization. She helped to found it, she was one of the most vocal members of the group, and she personally reviewed your case. She was the deciding factor on getting Matthew to you. She was missing organs too. Both kidneys.”

Will’s eyes lit up for the first time in what must have been weeks, but Beverly didn’t seem to notice, too busy continuing, “I mean, I’m not saying that Hannibal’s the Chesapeake Ripper because that’s crazy, but I’m kind of saying he’s the Chesapeake Ripper. The kills started ramping up right after your suicide attempt, and yet we didn’t hear anything from the Ripper while you were gone with Matthew, just got those poor bastards from the OCLC. One of whom was murdered in a similar style to a Ripper victim. Jack wouldn’t even consider the possibility, because he’s on Hannibal’s side, and no one on the team wants to say anything, but Hannibal is practically our only suspect for the OCLC murders. He’s the one with the most motive, we just can’t find the proof that he did it. And honestly, no one wants to find that proof.”

“But you do,” Will said slowly, and she sighed, looking for a moment like she didn’t know what to do with her hands, settling for rubbing down her legs for a moment before clasping them together, elbows on her knees again.

“I want to catch both of these bastards, and if they happen to be the same person, even better.” She looked at him and those melted chocolate eyes had turned hard, cold, as solid as granite. “And I think that they are.”

Will paused for a moment, mind the clearest it had been in weeks as he turned over this new information, this unexpected ally in his head. He let out a slow exhale, then turned back to her, eyes flicking over her features rather than settling on her eyes. “Okay. So what’s the plan?”

She opened her mouth to speak and was interrupted by the door opening, Hannibal stepping in with a polite, albeit slightly cold smile. “I’m afraid that I must insist that your time be up now, Ms. Katz. Will needs his rest,” he said, and Bev gave him a quick, flat smile before turning back to Will. She leaned in on the pretense of hugging him gingerly, whispering in his ear, “Just wait. Don’t sleep tonight.”

Then she pulled away, giving Hannibal a short nod before leaving the room, easing past where he stood, bold and imposing in the doorway, taking up most of it. Will looked up at Hannibal, who tsked softly, coming over to his side and taking a gentle hold of his hand, his free hand going to push Will’s curls back from his face, laying his palm flat against his forehead.

“I’m afraid her visit may have been detrimental to you, you’re completely flushed,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed to face Will, moving the hand that was on his forehead to his cheek, gently stroking it. Normally, this was where Will leaned into the touch, let himself get caught up in the affection Hannibal was giving him, but there was a fire raging in his gut today and he had to force himself to nuzzle Hannibal’s palm, bringing a smile to the Alpha’s lips.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, voice soft, always soft when he dealt with Will now, like he was handling an injured animal that was liable to snap at him if he made any sudden movements. And that was Will, in some ways. Still dangerous, despite his disadvantages.

Will nodded, preferring not to speak to Hannibal simply because Hannibal liked the sound of his voice and he also wasn’t sure what would come out if he opened his mouth right now, and Hannibal got up, patting his leg. “I’ll make you something to eat,” he said, brushing a kiss over Will’s forehead before leaving, shutting the door behind himself.

***

“I told you he’d fall asleep, he’s still sick because that bastard’s been poisoning him.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know, I thought maybe he’d be able to tough it out. He’s pretty damn stubborn.”

“Stubborn doesn’t equal completely healthy yet. He’ll be better once we have a chance to purge the poison from his system.”

Will awoke to the murmur of voices, both of them familiar though he was unable to place them at the moment. He didn’t make his awareness known yet, choosing to listen carefully through the fevered haze covering his brain, trying to gain a little clarity. It was difficult, to be sure, but he was trying his best, straining to listen to what was going on. He heard footsteps, the clicking of heels on a wood floor, and a third voice joined the conversation, female just like one of the original voices, and also familiar.

“How’s he doing?” it asked, and the male voice answered, the familiarity of it itching at the back of his brain.

“He’s okay. Still sick, but that’s because whatever he was given hasn’t gotten out of his system yet.”

“He’ll be fine in a few days,” the other female voice said confidently, and suddenly it clicked into place who it was, and Will opened his eyes.

He was in a room that was definitely not Hannibal’s bedroom, lying in a bed that thankfully wasn’t the same one he’d passed his illness in, and standing by the side of the bed were Matthew, Beverly, and Alana. Matthew was the first to notice that he was awake, those hawk eyes sharp, focused on him, as Will found they usually were when they were together. Another sign that he should have seen before, but he’d taken it to be part of Matthew’s job, not part of his interest towards Will. The interest that was now readily apparent as Matthew looked at him, a mixture of concern and relief in his eyes, and Beverly and Alana followed his gaze to Will.

“Hey champ, how you feeling?” Beverly asked, her arms crossed against her chest, and Will’s eyes briefly swung to her before settling on Matthew, who seemed glad to have his attention.

“Where am I?” he asked, and Matthew looked to Alana, who took a step forward so Will could see her better in the limited focus of vision that he had right now.

“You’re in a safe place. Not an OCLC safe house, but a safe house all the same. The organization didn’t technically approve any action on our part, but we acted anyway,” she said, and offered him a slight smile. “You’re safe, Will. For now, at least. I’m sure the FBI will get involved again, but they won’t be able to lean on the OCLC this time because they won’t have any information either.”

Will was sure he would feel relieved if he wasn’t so goddamn tired, exhausted and wrung out from the illness that was still consuming him whole, and when he didn’t speak, Alana continued. “It’ll take a few days, but the illness will get out of your system without Hannibal there to renew it,” she said, and Bev added, “Yeah, and then we can work on catching the bastard.”

Matthew didn’t say anything at all, simply looking down at Will, and Will continually found his eyes gravitating back towards the other man, unable to stay away from those dark eyes that were focused on him so intently. He could read so much and yet so little in that expression, and he wasn’t even sure if he was getting his readings right despite his empathy. Matthew was the hardest person he’d ever tried to decipher, harder than even Hannibal, and Hannibal was extremely good at playing his emotions close to the vest, though his love for Will made him slightly more predictable. Though even Will hadn’t been able to predict the ‘punishment’ that Hannibal had had in store for him.

“Maybe we should let him sleep,” Matthew finally said, looking up at the two women, and Alana nodded, though Beverly seemed reluctant to leave Will alone. “He needs to sleep this off.”

“I’m fine, really,” Will insisted, though sleep actually sounded like exactly what he needed right now. Matthew’s eyes swept over him before he raised an eyebrow, and Will capitulated, nodding.

“Good,” Matthew said, and reached out to give a gentle squeeze to Will’s hand before leading the way out of the room, waiting for the ladies to pass him before he left, with one final look at Will. And then Will was left alone in the darkness of the strange room, still feverish and sweating through his clothes but knowing that at least now, he was safe. Supposedly. He never really felt safe anymore, though somehow, with Matthew here, he did feel a little bit more relaxed, at ease, able to finally take a breath without Hannibal watching him. That was the main point, wasn’t it? That he was away from Hannibal now? And with Matthew. Matthew, who somehow made him feel safer than he had in weeks, though that could also be that he was finally away from Hannibal, away from the one person that was ruining his life and steadily and slowly draining his will to live from him. He didn’t really care at this point what was specifically making him feel better, he just needed the temporary relief.

And it could very well be temporary. The FBI had found them once before, they could do it again, though with Bev on his side there was less of a chance of them finding him. She could misdirect, misguide, make sure that they went in the wrong direction. He would be safe, at least for now. And he had more allies on his side than he’d thought, though he still worried about what had happened to Bedelia, unsure of what her fate had been. It made him feel guilty, honestly, for being responsible for her involvement in the first place, but it was too late to change it now. Her fate, whatever it was, had been sealed from the beginning, and now he simply needed to survive himself. If that was even possible.

He took a deep breath, trying to relax in the darkened room where shadows played in the corners, and suddenly, he knew what he needed. What he’d been craving for weeks, ever since the last time they were together. “Matthew,” he called out, and it only took a second for the other man to stick his head in, hand on the doorknob. “Could you…stay with me?” he asked, voice slightly hesitant, and after a moment a slow smile spread over Matthew’s lips.

“Of course,” he said softly, and slipped into the room, shutting the door behind himself. He slid into bed next to Will, settling close to him but letting Will have the freedom to decide how close they were. It was after only a moment of hesitation that Will pressed himself up against Matthew, curling in on his side so they were facing each other, their breath intermingling in the dark stillness of the room.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, and felt a hand begin to stroke over his hair.

“Go to sleep,” Matthew answered, and Will obliged, eyes slipping shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that I do commissions, if you're interested please email me at the email address on my profile. I'm also taking prompts for short drabbles, so if you're interested, you can pop on over to my [tumblr](http://disassociatedtinman.tumblr.com/).


	19. A is for Almost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal finds out Will is missing and Will gets closer to Matthew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been on a writing streak recently and hot damn, it's been great. As a result, I'm still very much taking prompts on my [tumblr](http://disassociatedtinman.tumblr.com/), with a specific focus on Hannigram, Brownham, and of course Spacedogs, but hey, if you got anything else feel free to at least float it by me. Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

He’d known this was going to happen. It was only a matter of time before Will slipped out of his grasp again, ever elusive, like trying to hold onto the sun when the night was only going to come again. Will was like the day, while Hannibal was the night; ever circling each other, and yet unable to touch. A fool’s errand, then. Only he had been able to touch Will, as much as it may have burned. He’d held him in his arms so many times, brushed his hand over his arm, the small of his back, his forehead, placed gentle kisses on his hands his lips his cheeks his forehead. He’d had Will wholly to himself, with limited interruption by well-wishers who wanted to make sure that he was alright, namely Alana and Beverly, the two women the ones most concerned with his wellbeing aside from Hannibal himself.

Though, of course, he was the source of Will’s illness. It didn’t take much to make him sick, especially not at first. A little coating on the inside of Will’s wineglass, making sure that that night would be spent with him curled around the toilet in the bathroom, wracked with pain. Pain that Hannibal was loathe to give him, wanting more than anything to take care of his love, but pain that was necessary.

Because oh, how Will was when he was sick. It was spectacular. All that false bravado was gone, that trumped up masculinity swept away as Will reverted to what Omegas were usually seen as, weak creatures that couldn’t take care of themselves and needed an Alpha to do it for them. And while Hannibal wasn’t incredibly keen on that kind of Omega in general, it turned Will into something beautiful. Someone who was completely dependent on him, who drank up all the affection Hannibal gave him and was still thirsty for more. He’d known that Will had a latent desire for affection from nearly the beginning, seeing how he reacted to Hannibal holding him and calming at night, despite how reluctant he was to admit that he liked the contact. He’d responded so positively to it that it’d been obvious to Hannibal, and now he could use that against him. Kill him with kindness, as it was. Get him addicted to the affection that Hannibal was giving him, making him nearly dependent on it, steadily wearing him down until he eventually gave in.

That’d been the plan, at least. And it’d been working, he could feel Will steadily beginning to fold under his attentions, starting to lose his strength of spirit with the illness threatening his system. But, of course, that wasn’t going to last. Because there was no winning with Will, no matter what he did. Someone was always going to come between them, no matter what they had to do to separate the two of them. It made Hannibal want to murder any ally Will had ever had and then whisk him away, lock him in seclusion where no one could ever look at or touch him again. He wanted Will to be solely his, away from the rest of the world and cut off from outside influences. His own little familial unit, just him and Will and whatever children they had. Was that so much to ask for?

Apparently yes. Because now he was following the car that was taking Will away from him, having known that something was going to get in between them, because something always did. This time, though, he wasn’t going to involve the FBI. This time he was going to handle it on his own, find out the exact people involved and settle this himself. It was better that way, in a lot of ways. Cleaner. No need to get back into that messy situation with far too many people looking at and touching and talking to his Will. No need to get Jack all riled up again over nothing, when he could easily solve this himself. It would take finesse, and skill, and care, but he had all of those tools at his disposal. All he required now was Will’s location, and he got that. Simply by following the little tan car that they’d loaded Will into after slipping him out of the house, Hannibal supposedly distracted by an “emergency” with a client, when really he was waiting for the car to pass him on the main road so that he could follow.

And now here they were. Outside of a small house on a quiet cul-de-sac, barely any neighbors nearby and the house surrounded by thick, full trees. He parked and watched them as they hurried Will into the house, catching sight of Beverly Katz as one of the conspirators. Of course. He’d wondered for a while if she was involved with this, if she suspected anything. After all, she had seen all of his work, and had more exposure to his victims than anyone else. Eventually, she’d have to put the pieces together.

And with her, of course, was the seemingly indefatigable Matthew Brown. Just the sight of the other Alpha had Hannibal nearly growling, shifting in his seat as he resisted the urge to get out of the car and tear him apart with his bare hands. Reclaim what was his, destroy Matthew and drag Will back with him, back to _their_ house, to _their_ bed, where he belonged. That wasn’t an option at the moment. He had to sit, and wait, and bide his time. Plan before doing anything. But then…well. Nothing was going to stop him from getting Will back. And this time, he wasn’t going to do it the nice way. No, he was on his own now, and things were better that way. It meant that he could be brutal.

***

He was in heat when he woke up. He could feel it acutely, a burning up from underneath his skin that had nothing to do with the fever still working its way through his system, a hollow ache in his abdomen like he desperately needed to be filled with something, anything, preferably an Alpha. His thighs were already sticky with his body’s natural lubrication, that awful feeling of wetness that made him shift against the bed, his breathing already up to nearly panting levels because Jesus Christ he was burning up and there was no cure. Sure, the fever could be allayed somehow, but there was only one way to help a heat and he was terrified and repulsed by it. So no. He wasn’t going to go seeking an Alpha out, even though he could smell one close by, could sense a delicious scent that felt warm and comforting and protective and was nearly wrapped around him. He closed his eyes, relishing it for a moment, that feeling of safety, of home, before he realized it; Matthew was the Alpha he was scenting. Matthew was still in the bed.

Will froze, his heart beating fast in his chest as he slowly opened his eyes, afraid of what he would see. He found Matthew lying on his side next to him, facing him, his eyes still shut as he breathed peacefully, deeply. Still asleep, then. Thank god. That meant that Will still had a chance to escape, a chance to get out of the room before anything happened, before Matthew woke up and had a chance to—to—to what? Would Matthew really hurt him? God, Will wanted to believe that he wouldn’t, but he’d seen firsthand how Alphas lost control around an Omega in heat, and he was terrified of it happening again. He liked Matthew. He didn’t want to have a reason to hate him.

The only problem was, he didn’t think he could get out of the bed by himself. His limbs were weak, fatigued, still aching from his fever, and that wasn’t helped at all by his heat, which just made him want to stay in place and writhe against the sheets. His body was physically aroused, disconnected from his mind which was screaming for him to run from the room and not look back, get out before he got hurt again. But he couldn’t do it. Wasn’t even sure if he could move without waking up Matthew, and he knew for sure that if he called out for Alana or Beverly, Matthew would wake up. He’d always been a light sleeper, after all, Will had learned that in their time jumping between safe houses together. And now that could mean that Will was trapped, and this was going to happen a second time.

Panic seized his heart and _squeezed_ , bringing him into even shorter breaths, hardly getting enough air and nearly hyperventilating. His breathing seemed loud in the thick silence over the room, only the sound of Matthew’s and his breathing filling the quiet, and try as he might to stifle it, he knew it was only a matter of time before those green eyes fluttered open and stopped him dead in his tracks. And then anything could happen.

Maybe he’d get lucky. Maybe Matthew would be able to control himself, could stop before things went too far and pull back from Will, excuse himself from the room. After all, Matthew was a different being entirely from Hannibal. Hannibal had been determined to bond with him, get him pregnant, and while Matthew may have feelings for him, he was also incredibly respectful of Will’s boundaries and had never shown any inclination towards wanting to impregnate him or even bond with him. That didn’t mean that he didn’t want it; it just meant that there was less of a chance that he did. A greater chance that Will was safe, though he felt about as far as he possibly could from safe right now. It was like swimming in a shark cage with an open wound and asking not to be bitten.

But at the same time, he was a lot less panicked than he’d been with Hannibal. Maybe that was because he kept taking deep gulps of Matthew’s scent, that familiar, masculine smell, clean and earthy and oh so comforting. It did everything for him that Hannibal’s scent should have done, calmed and soothed him, and he found himself relaxing before he tensed again, realizing what was happening. No. No, he wasn’t going to be lulled into a false sense of security by Matthew’s scent. He had to be awake, aware, alert, as much as his body was crying out for something that he didn’t really want. He pulled slightly away from Matthew, just a hair, and that was when those green eyes finally opened, boring directly into his.

Oh shit. Matthew’s pupils were blown wide with lust, making already dark eyes even darker, and Will didn’t dare move, didn’t dare break eye contact with him. Neither of them said anything for a minute, simply staring into each other’s eyes as they breathed the same air, close enough that their breath intermingled. Will swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion, and finally Matthew’s eyes moved, following the motion.

“Matthew,” Will said quietly, quite calmly, his voice remarkably even with barely a hint of a tremor, “I’m going into heat. I need you to leave.”

He watched Matthew anxiously, eyes wide open, careful as they looked at the Alpha he’d come to trust, the Alpha that he was currently terrified of. His entire relationship with Matthew depended on how the next few minutes went, and the truly frightening thing was that it could go either way. Either his faith in Matthew could be upheld and the Alpha could do the right thing, or…or Matthew could destroy all of the trust built up between them and tear Will apart while he was at it. It all depended on Matthew, and Will was waiting to see what he chose, nearly holding his breath. He was, actually, holding his breath for a minute there, and he released a shaky exhale when he realized it, eyes still fixed on Matthew. Permanently fixed on Matthew.

After a minute, Matthew licked his lips and opened his mouth, and Will braced himself to hear what he was going to say. “Can I touch you?” he asked, voice slightly husky, a combination of lust and the sleep from only minutes before, and Will watched him carefully, trying to gauge how in control of himself he was right now. He wasn’t leaving, wasn’t doing what Will asked, but at the same time, he was asking permission to touch Will, not going straight for it. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? So, hesitantly, Will nodded.

Matthew reached out slowly, sliding a hand along Will’s cheek, and Will nearly flinched at first, but managed to stop himself just short. Matthew seemed to realize how tightly wound he was, though, and stopped there, simply resting his hand on Will’s cheek for the moment. After a minute, he began to slowly stroke Will’s cheek, looking at him with a question in his eyes, trying to see if this was okay, and Will nodded, biting his lip. This was okay. This was hardly anything. This was innocent, and sweet, and if Will wasn’t so goddamn tense right now he would have enjoyed it. As it was, he was shaking slightly, from a combination of factors, his anxiety, the sickness, and of course, his heat. His body was responding positively to Matthew’s scent, to the touch of an Alpha, but he still didn’t want it. He still didn’t want to mate, didn’t want to be bonded, and that wasn’t going to change no matter who was in front of him. It didn’t matter if it was Hannibal or Matthew, the desire simply wasn’t there.

But this was okay. Matthew’s hand gently stroking his cheek, though Will could see how much willpower it was taking for him to keep the touch this chaste, this gentle. There was a common misconception that Alphas couldn’t be gentle or tender, that it was in an Omega’s nature, not an Alpha’s. No, they could be very sweet and incredibly loving, but they could also be rough, wild, untamed. He’d seen it during his bonding with Hannibal, and he could see Matthew fighting it now. And he was petrified that he was going to lose control.

“Matthew—” he started, but didn’t get very far, as Matthew leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. Will was so startled that he didn’t react for a minute, unsure of what to do. What he _should_ do was push Matthew away and tell him to leave, get out, raise his voice if he had to, but that wasn’t what he really wanted to do. No, what he wanted to do was entirely different, but it certainly wasn’t what he should have been doing. And yet he was doing it, he was kissing Matthew back, hand sliding to lightly touch his chest, prepared to push him away at a moment’s notice.

Matthew sighed softly into the kiss, his entire body seeming to relax at the reciprocation, like that was all he’d been waiting for. Waiting for a sign from Will that this was okay, that he could continue, and Will was giving it to him. He should have been pulling away, pushing Matthew back, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. No, his curiosity and his heat were getting the best of him, both of them drawing him to the Alpha next to him in the bed, making him crave his touch, his presence. And kissing? Well, despite Will’s repulsion to sex, he’d always liked kissing. Even making out didn’t bother him, and that seemed to be the direction that Matthew was headed in as he smoothly ran his tongue along Will’s bottom lip, asking for an entrance that Will wasn’t sure he wanted to give.

But he did. He parted his lips, allowing Matthew’s tongue to sweep into his mouth, exploring, tasting, testing. He moved his own tongue back against Matthew’s in light, curious sweeps, enjoying the sensation of being locked together and hardly noticing Matthew’s hand sliding down to his hip. When he did notice it, he froze, going absolutely still, but Matthew laid a series of gentle, open-mouthed kisses on his lips and continued the motion of his hand to the small of his back, slipping up under his shirt to pull him closer. Will managed to relax again, kissing Matthew back once more, though he was hyperaware of where Matthew’s hand was, gently stroking the smooth skin of his lower back. As long as that hand didn’t dip below the waistband of his boxer briefs, he was okay. As long as it didn’t go that far.

Matthew pulled back after a minute, opening his eyes to look at Will again, who couldn’t help but look back, mesmerized by the sight of those dark eyes, though there was currently something soft in them. Something…god, something loving. “Can I—can I—” Matthew started and then stopped, biting his lip as he looked down at Will’s lips, clearly having trouble getting the words out. He expressed what he wanted with a gentle rock of his hips against Will’s, Will able to feel his arousal even through the thick material of his pants.

“No,” he said instantly, firmly, wanting to make it very clear that this was not to head in that direction. Matthew could either settle for what they had now or he could leave, Will wasn’t going to sleep with him no matter how much he begged. For one thing, he didn’t want it, no matter how aroused his body was, and for another thing, he desperately didn’t want to get pregnant. He’d gotten lucky once already, he doubted his luck would hold for a second time. And as much as he liked Matthew, he wasn’t sure how far his feelings exactly extended for him. The thought briefly crossed his mind that Matthew could be the one to get rid of Hannibal’s bonding mark on him, but he instantly dismissed it. He hardly knew Matthew, they’d only spent a couple months together and only just now kissed for the first time. With as mixed up as his feelings were and how damaged he still was from his time with Hannibal, it wasn’t happening. Not now.

Matthew let out a soft whine, rocking his hips against Will’s, and Will let him, the friction serving a purpose for him too, as much as he didn’t want it to. As much as this was making him a little bit sick, not helping the nausea already stirring in his gut from the lingering illness caused by Hannibal. He probably wasn’t going to throw up, though, so there was that, at least. No, he just wasn’t sure how far he could take things with Matthew right now. Grinding against each other, okay, he could deal with it, as nervous and unsure as he was. Anything else…probably not. And he needed to make that clear.

“Matthew,” he said calmly, hoping that if he kept his tone calm, even, it would mean that the Alpha remained in control of himself. “I think it might be best if you leave now.”

Matthew didn’t answer, instead burrowing into the crook of Will’s neck and taking a deep breath. “You smell so good,” he said, breath hot against Will’s neck, and Will shivered slightly.

“You do too, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’m not going to bond with you. You need to leave.” He kept his voice firm despite the fear underneath it all, the slight tremor that crept in. Yes, he was afraid, he was very afraid of what was going to happen next, and was nearly holding his breath. God, why did he have to be born an Omega? His life would have been so much easier if he was born a Beta, free from all of the expectations that came with his gender. Instead it seemed that he was constantly in danger, constantly on the edge of some attack from one side or the other. He wasn’t even safe with Matthew, though so far, the Alpha had been okay, in control. That could change in an instant.

“Please…” Matthew said softly, Will feeling his lips brush against his skin with the word, but he shook his head.

“No, Matthew. I’m very much asexual and very much not interested in having sex with you right now.”

“It doesn’t have to be sex…”

Will resisted the urge to sigh, reaching up and stroking Matthew’s hair with his hand. “Any kind of sexual activity repulses me. I don’t want it. So I’m going to need you to leave.”

“Let me just—just—” Matthew paused for a moment, seeming to have trouble with his words again, probably too high on pheromones and lust to properly string together a sentence. “I don’t want to leave,” he finally sighed, and Will sighed along with him.

“Truth be told, I don’t want you to leave either. But that’s the pheromones talking. You have to.”

Matthew tensed against him, holding onto him tighter, and Will stiffened, trying to pull back but unable to with how tight Matthew’s grip was. He waited in a breathless silence, trying to see if this was it, if this was finally going to be the straw that broke the camel’s back and Matthew was going to attack him, ruin everything they’d built between them so far.

But instead, Matthew released him, pressing a final, gentle kiss to his lips before getting up, and leaving. And finally, Will could breathe again.                                                                                              


	20. A is for Assist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beverly takes a turn at the wheel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo sorry that this took me so long to get out, it just was really hard for me to write this chapter for some reason, so I have to apologize for how long it took me to get out, and how short it is. Don't worry, more updates will be along soon!

She’d been such an idiot. Really, she had, and no amount of forgiveness on Will’s part was going to erase that. And he did seem to have forgiven her, though he was understandably still a bit upset about how long it’d taken, about how blind she’d been. They were all blind, the ones that made excuses for Hannibal and claimed that he was right in all of this. She’d started to see it at the wedding, when Will had been so terrified that he’d had a panic attack in the middle of the aisle, and it’d only grown worse as time went on, as she saw the dynamic between the two of them. It was plain to anyone with a set of working eyes that Will hated Hannibal. Despised him, couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as him. Clearly the bond didn’t take, at least not on Will’s side, and she hadn’t been able to stand it anymore. Hadn’t been able to sit idly by and excuse Hannibal’s behavior anymore.

The Chesapeake Ripper case had only cemented what she already felt. From day one, when Will first told her that Hannibal was dangerous, she’d sensed that he was right, that there was something off about the psychiatrist that just wasn’t obvious to everyone else. But she could see it, Will could, Bedelia could, and Alana could. Matthew had never met Hannibal—which was probably a good thing, considering they’d try to tear each other apart—but if he had, she was sure he would have seen it too. It was just everyone else who was willfully blind, choosing not to see what was right in front of them. And Jack was right at the head of that particular movement, conducting every investigation into Will’s disappearances, leading the charge when it came to getting him back for Hannibal. Always for Hannibal.

It was sickening, when she actually thought about it. The way that the two of them fed off of one another, each feeding the other lies that were repeated back in a different form. Mostly lies about Will and his feelings, fibs they told themselves to comfort each other, reassure themselves and one another about how Will _really_ felt about all of this. It was pure and utter bullshit, and too much for her stomach to handle sometimes. But she’d finally made the right decision. She was finally on the right side, and intended to stay there.

“What the hell did you do to Matthew?” she asked as soon as Will appeared, rubbing the back of his neck, and then caught a whiff of his scent, something sickly sweet in the air and detectable to even her Beta nose. “Holy shit, are you in heat?”

Will nodded, and Alana got up, pulling out a chair for him as she seemed to note just how sick and weak he still looked, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders despite how hot he must have been already. “Do you want some tea or coffee or something?” she asked, some concern in her voice, and he nodded, voice croaking slightly as he said, “Coffee, please.”

She moved to start making him some, Bev taking a moment to admire the curve of her hips underneath her dress before she turned back to Will, who still looked like shit, despite the rest it seemed he’d gotten. He probably shouldn’t have even been able to get out of bed, considering that he was both recovering from a strong illness and in heat, but Will had never exactly done the typical thing, had he? He wasn’t normal, in any sense of the word, and Bev was almost proud of him for having managed to get out of bed.

“Why did you ask me what I did to Matthew?” he asked, a hint of confusion in his voice as he turned to look at Beverly, his brow furrowed over sea blue eyes.

She snorted. “Because he came out of the bedroom and immediately darted to the bathroom to take a shower. Didn’t even say a word to either of us. But he was—holy shit, he was in the bed with you and you’re in heat. Did he—”

“No, Bev, he didn’t do anything to me,” Will said, shaking his head. Something shifted in his eyes, something she couldn’t quite name, but when he looked up at her a moment later they’d cleared. “He was fine. I’m not surprised he left, he’s probably having a cold shower.”

“Jesus. How could an Alpha like that resist a sweet piece of ass like you?” she asked, teasing slightly, and he smiled, the first time she’d seen him do that in weeks. That was certainly rewarding.

“Matthew isn’t like normal Alphas,” Alana inputted, coming back over with a cup of coffee for Will, the sugar bowl in her other hand, and set them both down in front of him as he thanked her. “He never has been. So much more patience.”

“How long have you known him for?” Will asked curiously, beginning to add a few spoonfuls of sugar to his coffee. 

Alana shrugged, taking her seat next to Beverly again, across the table from Will. “A few years. He’s been in the organization longer than I have,” she said. “But I’ve never seen him this invested in a case before.” There was an implication in her voice that was easy for Bev to pick up, and Will as well, judging by his expression. She smirked a bit, hiding it behind her mug as she took a sip of her coffee, but Will shot a look in her direction anyway before turning back to Alana.

“Maybe it’s simply more personal for him,” he said, the phrasing delicate. “Maybe he knows what Hannibal is.”

“Which is what, exactly?” Alana asked, a few steps behind in this particular area. She hadn’t been in the thick of it like Beverly had, elbow deep in corpses that only seemed to keep on coming, each one more bizarre than the last. “You think he’s the one who killed the OCLC members.”

“More than that, we think he’s the Chesapeake Ripper. Take a look at this.” Bev turned slightly in her chair to pull two files out of the messenger bag behind her, dropping them both down on the table. Will instantly reached for them, retracting his hand when Bev lightly slapped it, a gentle reprimand. She flipped open one of the files, paging through it to get to a particular section, then opened the second one, repeating the process.

“Look, right here,” she said, pointing at the two pages. “Same surgical precision, same removal of organs, just different displays of the corpses. It’s the same method of killing, just different endgames. Everyone’s too chickenshit to mention it to Jack, but they all know Hannibal’s guilty. No one else has the same kind of motive that he had for the OCLC either. They’re looking now at ‘radical Alpha traditionalist terrorist groups’, but we all know who really did it. The timing of the killings lines up way too well. The problem is that we have no proof.”

“Well how do we get proof?” Alana asked, delicate brow furrowed over blue eyes that Bev took a moment to admire before Will kicked her under the table, bringing her attention back to the present.

“I don’t really know. I can point out all the similarities between the kills all I like, it’s not hard evidence and Jack’s not going to listen to me anyway.”

Will leaned back in his chair, one hand holding the blanket closed over his shoulders, and the other holding his cup of coffee, which he looked like he desperately needed. Jesus, he looked like hell. “We could trap him,” he offered, and took a sip of his coffee.

“And how the hell do you propose we do that?” Bev asked, raising her eyebrows. “If it involves you going back to that sick bastard and playing nice in the hopes that he’ll teach you his murderous ways, no fucking way. He nearly killed you, you still look like death.”

“He didn’t nearly kill me, he knew exactly what he was doing, exactly what amounts of whatever he was administering to give me so that I would be sick but not in danger of death. And if I went back to him and played it right, he wouldn’t make me sick again. It’s all in whether I can get him to believe me or not.”

“Will, that’s a terrible idea,” Alana said, a kindness in her tone that Beverly had come to associate with her naturally. “We have no idea what could happen if you go back to Hannibal. And after escaping twice? There won’t be a third opportunity. He’ll make sure of it. The OCLC already can’t help you anymore, not without fear of more of our number being cut down. It’s just me, Beverly, and Matthew now, and if you go back to Hannibal, I’m not sure what we can do.”

“Well, do you have a better idea?” Will asked, raising his eyebrows. “He’s careful. Incredibly careful, so much so that he’s been getting away with killing for what, years? Maybe decades? He’s not going to suddenly slip up because he’s angry about losing me again.”

“Okay, let’s look at this objectively, shall we?” Beverly placed her mug down decisively, more fully turning towards Will. “So you’re going to go back to a psychopathic killer who’s in love with you—” Will snorted “—or obsessed or whatever, try to gain his confidence—which could take years—and hope that he lets you into his little murder world instead of killing you or trying to rape and impregnate you again. Gee, what a brilliant idea.”

Will sighed lightly, rubbing at his eyes with his hand. “It’s the only idea we have, Beverly. Yes, there is a problem of time. But unless we can find something on him within the next few weeks, he’s going to find me eventually anyway, and this time I could be trapped permanently anyway.”

“So you’re willing to risk rape and impregnation in order to catch him?” she asked, and something in his jaw tightened. “Because I’m not.”

“Then what is your idea?” he asked, voice slightly sharp.

She sighed, looking at the files again. “There’s gotta be something here. Or in his house, or in his office, or something. He can’t be perfectly clean about the whole thing, he can’t. He takes trophies, right? So he must keep them somewhere.”

Will looked a little paler than usual, a realization crossing his features, and she asked, “What?”

“He’s not keeping them,” he said quietly. “He’s eating them.”

Alana and Beverly’s eyes both widened at that, Beverly’s eyebrows shooting up. “You’re not serious,” Bev said after a minute, and he nodded slowly, mechanically.

“There’s only one thing he loves more than me, and that’s cooking. He fed me dog, once, Beverly. He’s not above eating human meat.”

“Jesus Christ,” Alana whispered, looking sick and directing her eyes down to her mug of tea.

“So you’re not going to find any evidence of trophies, not unless it’s fresh after a kill,” Will continued quietly. “Unless he’s freezing them and keeping them.”

“He could be. Which gives up an opening,” Bev said, brushing past the whole cannibalism part like it was nothing.

Will’s eyes flashed as he looked at her, shaking her head. “Don’t even think about it, Bev. Don’t go fishing somewhere you know has piranhas.”

“You’re not seriously thinking about going into his house, are you?” Alana asked, and Beverly gave a slight shrug. “That’s suicide.”

“Not if he’s not home,” she said, and fielded a rather fierce glare from Will. “What?”

“Don’t do it. Promise me you won’t do it.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes, but held up her hand. “Scout’s honor,” she said reluctantly, and Will seemed slightly pacified. “Now can we get back to the point? If you won’t let me fish and Will definitely can’t, what can we do? Wait for him to slip up?”

“We don’t have that much time,” Alana said. “Eventually he’s going to find Will, and in the meantime the OCLC is working on the lawsuit, but we don’t know how successful that’s going to be. Even if we do get a divorce for Will, there’s no guarantee Hannibal’s going to honor it.”

“I’d bet money he won’t,” Will murmured, turning his coffee cup with his hands.

“I could do it.”

The three of them looked up and were greeted by the sight of a nearly naked Matthew, who was still dripping wet from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. And sporting a raging erection that he was trying to hide, lovely. Even with the fact that she was incredibly gay, Beverly had to take a moment to appreciate Matthew’s sheer size, which was rather impressive even with the Alpha part of him factored in. No wonder Will didn’t want to have sex with him, that looked like it would hurt.

Matthew’s eyes were still dark, pupils eclipsing his irises probably just because he was still in the same room as Will, who was just starting his heat, and who was now shifting uncomfortably in his chair, his body no doubt producing more lubrication now that he could smell and see an Alpha in the room when Matthew’s scent had previously been masked by the shower he’d been taking. Will’s eyes darted along Matthew’s face before he asked quietly, “Do what?”

“I could trap Hannibal,” Matthew said, that easy confidence he usually had in his tone. “You need to catch him in the act or something similar, right? Well, he definitely wants to kill me. So we just have to set him up, and we can at least get him for assault, if not murder. That’ll bring enough jail time with it to keep him out of our hair while the OCLC works on the divorce.”

There was a short silence, Bev considering it along with the other two as she thought through whether or not it was worth it to risk Matthew like that. Though, if they did it correctly… “That could work,” she said after a minute, but turned her gaze to Will as she spoke. “Set it up the right way and we could have visual evidence of him trying to kill someone. Not quite as good as catching him in the act, but it’s something.”

Will was silent for a minute more before beginning to nod. “It could work,” he said slowly, and his eyes flashed back up to Matthew’s. “How do you propose we do it?”

And Matthew smiled slowly, covering his mouth with his hand as if to hide it from Will, hide how truly pleased he was. “We’re going to make him think that we’re bonded.”


	21. A is for Alpha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Matthew begin on their plan, and Hannibal starts on his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I wrote this in the space of like two days so if there are any mistakes I apologize. Things are heating up and are only going to get hotter from here. ;)

Oh, how he hated to do this. But Will had left him no choice, hadn’t given him any other options but this, at least, if he wanted Will back. Which of course he did. After all, he’d been so close to having the perfect version of Will. The one that was addicted to his affection and love, the one that had barely been able to do anything without his help. He hadn’t planned on keeping Will sick forever; no, just long enough for him to get addicted to Hannibal, to realize that he relied on him. Then, steadily, he would wean him off the drugs, get him back to a healthy state and hopefully keep him in that same frame of mind, where he associated love and affection and reliance with Hannibal. Then, they could work from there. Operant conditioning. Simplest thing in the world, at least to someone experienced in it, and Hannibal was quite experienced. It’d been working beautifully, but Will had been in a delicate state when he left again, too delicate for the training to hold.

Well, not entirely. If Hannibal retrieved him and made him sick once more, just once, he would remember his training and change his behavior. That was the hope, at least. But retrieving Will was going to be difficult, especially now that Matthew had gotten his hands on him once more. Will had been close to his heat when he left, so close that Hannibal could smell it on him, and he was afraid of what would happen if Matthew was nearby when he went into heat. He wasn’t afraid of anything on Will’s side—despite the strange sort of affection the Omega seemed to hold for Matthew, it wouldn’t be enough to overcome Will’s sex repulsion. Matthew, however…Alphas easily lost control when a nearby Omega went into heat, and Matthew already seemed to have some sort of romantic feelings for Will. Meaning he’d jump on any opportunity to bond with Will, even if it was against his will.

Or, at least, that was what he assumed. He didn’t know Matthew well enough to know for certain, but he certainly didn’t have a high opinion of the other Alpha, and didn’t expect much more than the lowest behavior from him. Especially towards Will. After all, no one could care for Will quite the way that Hannibal could. They simply didn’t have strong enough feelings, not like Hannibal did. Feelings that consumed him whole, swelling in his chest anytime he was near Will and tightening every time he was rejected. Someday, that would be different, though. Because he was going to get Will back, on his own this time, and he knew how.

He waited outside the ornate front door, having knocked just a minute ago, now waiting for an answer as his breath frosted slightly in the chill outside. There hadn’t been any snow yet, but they were expecting some soon for the season, and he took a speculative look around the grounds as he waited, eyes roaming from where he stood. After a moment, the door opened, and he turned to see a slightly battered young woman that he knew well.

“Hello Margot,” he said, his voice light, tone pleasant. “Is Mason home?”

***

“Remember, it has to be convincing, but you don’t want to scar me for life.”

“Yeah, he already did that for me.”

There was a slight darkness in Matthew’s eyes that went along with those words, and Will looked at him for a moment, a rare instance of eye contact before he turned his gaze away again, towards the floor. After a moment and a sigh, he tilted his neck to expose a swathe of pale skin, his pulse visibly jumping in his throat as he revealed the mark that Hannibal had left on him, the scar that marked their bonding. The one that hadn’t taken on his side, and god was he thankful for that. That was the biggest bullet that he’d ever managed to dodge.

Matthew looked at the exposed flesh for a minute almost hungrily, though Will couldn’t blame him. He was still in heat, and no doubt it sounded incredibly tempting for Matthew to just tackle him onto the floor and bond with him properly, instead of what they were doing. This faux intimacy, though it still felt quite intimate to Will, considering the circumstances and how obvious it was that Matthew wanted him, in every sense of the word. This meant more to Matthew than he was probably willing to say, and it definitely meant more to Will than he was willing to say. Even being in the same room with Matthew right now was dangerous, and here he was, fake bonding with him in the effort of making Hannibal fall into a trap that they weren’t even sure he’d be caught in. This was dangerous, and intimate, and Will was starting to regret this idea.

But before he could pull away, or change his mind, or even take another breath, Matthew was striking, hand moving to gently cup the side of Will’s face as he sank his teeth deep into Will’s neck, hard enamel sinking into soft flesh. Will squeezed his eyes shut, enduring the pain of the bite as Matthew bit as deep and as hard as he could. After all, it needed to look convincing, but just shy of actually scarring him. The last thing Will needed was _two_ separate bonding scars, one of which wasn’t even real. But at the rate Matthew was going, it seemed he might just get that, the Alpha sucking now, drawing blood to the surface of his skin. It would leave both a lurid mark and the actual mark of teeth, and that was the point. For it to look as much like a bonding mark as possible, good enough to fool Hannibal, of all people, who wasn’t easily fooled.

He wasn’t sure if it was just his body’s response to the pain, or what it was, but after a minute, the pain disappeared and was replaced by a rush of endorphins, his brain apparently registering the pain and realizing that it needed to counteract it. Or maybe it was his heat, releasing the chemicals simply because it was responding to the touch of an Alpha, harsh as it was. After all, it had responded positively to Hannibal, despite the implications of what Hannibal had been doing to him. So why wouldn’t it do the same now?

When it had been a few minutes and Matthew wasn’t showing any sign of stopping, he gently pushed him away, and thank god Matthew actually listened to him and pulled away, licking some blood off his lips as he pulled back enough to see Will. His eyes were still dark with unexpressed lust, and seemed even darker now, if that was possible. When Will actually thought about it, the contact must have been hell for him. So close, the ability to actually touch Will, almost get what he wanted, but so far, because he couldn’t actually have it. He could have a facsimile of intimacy, but that was all, and Will was amazed at Matthew’s incredible amount of self-control once again.

“Good?” Matthew asked, his breathing a touch heavy, and Will didn’t have to wonder why. He turned to the mirror, turning his neck to admire the rather dark mark now adorning his neck, carmine that would bloom into an obscene violet, and all of it highlighted by the teeth marks in his sensitive flesh. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt much, though he was only touching it gingerly. Instead, he felt a touch dizzy, actually, a tad bit lightheaded from the surprising rush of endorphins that had come later into the bite that he was blaming his heat for.

“Hopefully it doesn’t scar…but it shouldn’t,” Will said, examining it a moment more before pulling back, turning to Matthew again. “Okay. Scent marking.”

This was also going to require Matthew to have insane amounts of control, but it was also going to require Will to have him some himself. Because right now, in his heat, Matthew smelled insanely good to him, making his body react, though all of his desire was still physical and not mental. He didn’t want to have sex with Matthew at all, but he wasn’t sure what he did want to do with him. Just that this may have been crossing a line that they couldn’t jump back over, and Will wasn’t sure whether or not he actually wanted to cross it or not. But right now, he really didn’t have a choice.

Matthew seemed to be asking permission with his eyes, and Will nodded once, twice, quickly, granting access for something that right now, seemed dangerous. But it had to be done in his heat, when both of their scents were at their strongest, and then they could move on from there. Renew it as time went on, which wouldn’t be hard if they continued sleeping in the same bed together. The problem, though, was that it was smell like their scents had mixed, but not like they’d actually bonded. Which was where Beverly came in.

But right now, he had to focus, which wasn’t hard as he felt Matthew nuzzling in against his neck, rubbing his cheek against the side of Will’s face, stubble scraping slightly against stubble. Will found that he didn’t terribly mind the sensation, especially because this close, he could really smell Matthew, and god was that good. He found himself taking deep, even breaths, and realized Matthew was doing the same, interspersed with small sniffs as he traveled along Will’s neck, down to his collarbone. And that was when it happened. As Matthew nuzzled in against Will’s collarbone, Will found himself reaching down, taking Matthew by the chin to guide him back up again, and then leaning forward to kiss him.

He wasn’t really sure why he did it. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the lingering lightheadedness, maybe it was just an urge that he’d been denying for too long and that was now coming out without his input. He just knew that kissing Matthew before had felt nice, and it felt equally nice now, Matthew’s lips remarkably soft against his own, gentle as he kissed Will back with a carefully tethered passion. He could feel Matthew restraining himself, could feel the tension in him that was the only thing keeping him from taking Will right here, right now. And thank god for that. Because this was so nice, but Will didn’t want it to go any further, especially because of his heat. If he slept with Matthew—which was a terrifying thought—while in heat and then got pregnant…oh god. It was a horrifying idea.

But this…this was nice. Just soft, gentle kisses being exchanged, Matthew’s slightly broad hands cupping his face and holding him in place, deepening the kiss with easy brushes of his tongue to tease Will’s mouth open. Will willingly parted his lips, giving himself over to Matthew in this, at least. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he noted that this might actually help with the scent marking, help solidify Matthew’s ‘claim’ over him and make it more believable to Hannibal that they were actually together when nothing was decided yet. Wait…why was he even thinking that? Of course things were decided. He wasn’t going to bond with Matthew. He couldn’t.

After a few minutes, Will gently pulled himself away from Matthew, nuzzling into his neck to return some of the scent marking, breath falling against Matthew’s throat. Matthew’s hand moved to stroke his hair, encouraging, and Will continued, rubbing his scent over Matthew’s neck and upper chest, dotting a few kisses along his collarbone. Matthew’s breathing seemed to hitch at that, and Will was amazed at how so little could do so much, how much Matthew truly seemed to be affected by him. How could he want Will this much? How could he have any sort of feelings for him? How could he want someone who was so traumatized, so broken, so—so—fuck, he didn’t even have enough words to describe what was wrong with him. But why would anyone ever want him, want someone who could never give them a sexual relationship or a family if they wanted it? He was an Omega, he was built to carry children, as everyone was so fond of reminding him, but he couldn’t even do that.  So what good was he?

“Shh,” Matthew said softly, and Will realized that he’d curled into his chest, shaking slightly from the force of his thoughts. Matthew’s arms were wrapped around him, holding him close, one hand stroking his hair gently, and Will allowed himself to fall against him, letting Matthew hold him up. “It’s okay.”

“Sorry,” Will mumbled, though he didn’t make any move to pull away, taking shelter against Matthew’s chest, which he nuzzled his face against.

“It’s okay. Scent marking is a very personal thing, and considering what Hannibal did to you…that’s bound to trigger a few things.”

That wasn’t exactly it, but Will wasn’t about to correct him, instead staying silent and still against him, content like this. Content to just let Matthew try and fix it for him. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but it was quite a while before Will had the strength to pull away again, looking Matthew solidly in the eyes.

“Okay,” he said, and gave a brief nod. “Scent marking.”

***

“And who’s this…this woman that you want me to see about?”

“Alana Bloom,” Hannibal answered evenly, turning to look at a few of the horses as he followed Mason through the stables. He stopped to pet one’s nose, a deep chocolate brown stallion that he admired. He’d always admired horses for their elegance and grace, despite their size. They made for excellent steeds, and he appreciated that they were both useful as well as aesthetically pleasing, something that reminded him a touch of Omegas. And his Omega in particular, with deep brown curls to match this horse’s mane.

“And what, exactly, is in this for me?” Mason asked, turning around to face Hannibal, giving him a grin as he took a step back towards him. “You see, Dr. Lecter, you may be both my therapist and my sister’s, but considering the exorbitant fees we pay you, I don’t think you’re owed anything else.” He laughed, and Hannibal nearly grimaced, managing to stop himself short. Instead, he smiled pleasantly, like this was any other discussion and not what it really was; a potentially deadly negotiation.

“I believe, Mason, that you have had issues for quite some time with obtaining an heir. I believe I could solve that issue for you,” he said smoothly, and Mason laughed again.

“If you’re referring to a little mini Mason Verger running around, I’m afraid you’ve lost me, doctor. I’m not interested in any progeny at this time.”

“But perhaps your sister is.” Mason’s smile faded at that, brow furrowing just a tiny bit, and Hannibal continued evenly. “And maybe it would be best if you had an heir of your own.”

Mason waved a hand dismissively. “If you’re talking about bringing me an Omega, I can buy one of my own,” he said, sounding a touch bored, though Hannibal knew he was anything but. “Quite a fine selection, if I’m interested, male or female. I could have whatever I wanted.”

“I’m not talking about an Omega, Mason. I’m talking about a female Alpha.”

Mason didn’t seem to be able to react for a moment, then grinned wide, laughing raucously. “Oh, that’d be a gem, Dr. Lecter, but what would be the point? Alpha women have a tendency to be more interested in my sister than me.”

“This one wouldn’t be,” Hannibal assured, voice silky, like a snake slithering through tall grass. “I can promise you that. And she’s capable of bearing children for you. The child of two Alphas? That would be quite the heir to have.”

Mason leaned against the nearest horse stall, seeming to think about it for a minute, considering his options. But Hannibal already knew what he was going to pick. It hadn’t taken many sessions to discover that Mason preferred Alphas, liked to take dominance over someone who was already supposed to be dominant. He liked to be _more_ dominant than them, exert his influence that way. But female Alphas were rare, and female Alphas that were capable of bearing children even rarer. He only knew two female Alphas, and one was already married and couldn’t have children. And the other was the one that he was offering.

“Alana Bloom, you said,” Mason said after a minute, and Hannibal’s smile was thin, sharp.

“Yes,” he said. “I have a few instructions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that I do commissions, if you're interested, you can email me at the address on my profile. Thank you!


End file.
